Subjection
by Noble6
Summary: As a requested order, Huntsgirl is to capture and monitor the American Dragon to learn all she can about her enemy. Not considering the true motives behind the plan, the huntress complies and gradually becomes infatuated with her subject through the forced time with him. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN AD:JL.
1. Reckoning

_**-Reckoning-**_

_The huntress stood before her master, head bowed in humiliation._

"_You failed the mission?" he assumed, eyes smoldering behind the skeletal dragon helm that proved of his hardships. "Again?"_

_She flinched at the harsh tone, suddenly very aware that her hands were empty when they should be holding what she was expected to retrieve. As an apprentice – the Huntsman's one and only – the young woman consisted of the select few with the privilege to walk by his side and be recognized as a superior. Trained under expertise that granted an elite form, she stood above the average class with the promise of a sound ruling future. Failure was certainly not an option on her part. Unfortunately, recent lack of succession stated otherwise; of course, mistakes could be passed by on a slight occasion, but gradually over the set of months? It was simply becoming unacceptable. Punishment needed to be in order, and he was going to remind her of it._

"_Huntsgirl, I'm disappointed," the man turned away, hands behind his back. Her mouth had been open to retort, however, it was unwise to interrupt the leader when speaking. So, she instead sealed her lips and quietly listened. "You are no doubt my top ranked student, trusted initially to carry out any given task, yet it seems you have become completely incompetent to perform your work."_

_There was a moment of pause, in which the Huntsman shook his head with a skeptical laugh._

"_In fact, even basic trainees have managed to slay bigger game while you can't even bring in a mere pixie!" he drew in a sharp breath before continuing. "Alas, you have not always appeared as such. No, when you first began your role as a major hunter, you displayed much power. Great potential. I was proud of my most valuable asset. But now...now, I'm not even sure what you are to me anymore."_

_Glancing back over his shoulder, the Huntsman knew that he didn't have to see the girl's face to know that there was guilt written behind the mask._

"_So, then, what has happened? Why have you allowed yourself to fall so low?"_

_Where the Huntsgirl had once been prepared to provide an answer, she was now stiff with uncertainty, voice lost within her throat. Given a brief review of her not very detailed but obviously more applauding past, her cerulean eyes closed to hide the shame that was surfacing while reflecting memories. At the young age of six, her childhood could be called done and over as innocence was considerably destroyed when her small hand grasped a weapon. Come age thirteen, expectations were high and never settled once the first step was taken onto the field, and since then has she been bestowed with a title that forever would be cherished as her only identity. With that name, she carried the pride of the one person she never hoped to let down, however here they stood now in this current discussion. The disappointment was overwhelming. Now desperate to defend her case despite her inexcusable efforts, the teenager sucked in her courage, only wondering just what the reaction may be. She assumed it wouldn't bode well._

"_I apologize, Master," Huntsgirl knelt down respectively, though her sight was diverted. "There is to be no reason for my mistakes, and only my actions are to blame for them." True sincerity was evident in her emotions. "I humbly ask for your understanding...also in knowing that it's the dragon rather than myself..."_

"_The dragon?" his voice elevated, cape sounding as it cut through the air due to his rapid spin. She nearly cringed beneath the looming glare. "Might I add that it is your responsibility to slay the creature? Then, who's fault does it remain?"_

_Huntsgirl swallowed._

"_B-but," she began to stutter, mindful to not show fear; it was a disgusting sign of weakness. "He's strong, too strong, and always finds a way to outsmart my-"_

"_It's still an excuse!" the Huntsman's words were a menacing hiss, and within them, there was still no denying the lie. He was aware of the block that had developed in his pupil's path, and very well what was causing it. Even this obstacle was a hindrance to his own productivity – something he wouldn't admit so as to avoid seeming unworthy in his leading status. Yes, the claimed beast, infamously referred to as the American Dragon. Harmless enough when first emerging as a foe, he eventually scaled up into an admirable threat, usually present to greet the slayers and swoop down to disband them in order to release the captured profit. More troublesome was his ability to escape any complex situation; like a damned annoying cat, always landing on both feet. The repetitive pattern was now a danger toward the Clan itself due to low income. Matters were becoming desperate to have the nuisance disposed, and how different things would become at his immediate removal. Stocks would flourish, the Clan would continue to grow, and most importantly, the Huntsman's job would stay secure. Better, the Huntsgirl could finally escalate in ranking. Sure, her skill set had managed to rake in the pelts of many creatures, but none could amount to the value of dragon skin. It was the necessary ticket to advance, and though destined to someday take charge of the business, she had to earn that position first and foremost. What better prize than the elusive opponent? The two had practically learned together, entering training at the same time period and gaining strength from their frequent brawls. There was to be no equal, however. One had to be the greater, and it had to be her. There was no room for exceptions._

_This ongoing problem needed a solution. A permanent answer._

_Executing a plan was the most efficient method to chase victory, and luckily the Huntsman had the knack for creating useful strategies. Ideas involving wicked twists and turns, and schemes that cheated anyone or anything just for the benefit of getting ahead. It was these details that made him a cunning adversary. And in turn, a deceiving teacher._

"_Ah, but here we waste time, as talking will surely do nothing to help us excel." the Huntsman sighed, feet shuffling to a stop once realizing he had begun pacing while digging amongst his thoughts. Huntsgirl seemed taken aback by the sudden calm disposition, given her expression. "A move must be devised, careful and precise, even if time presents a factor..."_

_A glint of determination flashed through the girl's eyes, her jaw set and fists clenched. If this was the only shot left for redemption, then she was going to take it._

"_What am I to do?" the question came naturally, and her demeanor with it._

"_Oh?" his head swung toward her. "Are you under the impression that there is now to be no penalty?"_

_Huntsgirl blinked._

"_Do you think I just invited you here for a nice little chat?" he pressed on. "That, perhaps, talking over your problems solves them and – poof – they're gone? No more conflict?"_

"_I – no, of course not, Master," to argue would leave her a fool. "What are my disciplines? Extended training, or-"_

"_No training necessary," the Huntsman's hand raised to prevent her from venturing any further. He lingered, trying to appear as if he were pondering a punishment when in actuality he knew what to serve, and she was not going to like it. But, he required her attention toward the fact that she had caused trouble one too many times."It would be useless, seeing as how you are, until further notice, restricted from partaking in any outdoor missions..."_

_In which his words were like a cannon, the feeling in her stomach resembled the panic and devastation to that of a sinking ship. And, because of her undying loyalty to this man who housed and raised her, exploiting her anger was not something she was keen on doing. "What, but," the adolescent squeaked helplessly. "Master, I..."_

"_Oh, do not fret, my dear," he reached out for her, placing an arm around her shoulders. "Besides, I have a different subject in mind for you to contend with in the meantime. A subject...you may find interesting..."_

* * *

_New York City,  
__October 7th,  
__Tuesday, 7:56 P.M._

Three years.

To think that it had been so long since that day. But rightly it had, and how much had changed between then and now.

Slinking in the shadows of an alley, the Huntsman poked his head out from behind a side wall, peering cautiously from one side to another before proceeding to step out into the desolate street of the city of New York. While he was absent for the span of quite some time, nothing could bring the man to miss the overcrowded town. If there was anything to miss at all, it would be the currency that walked about, undetected, in the form of magical creatures.

Which brought about the topic of his leaving, and furthermore, his reminiscing. Magical creatures were becoming increasingly difficult to track and hunt, and to blame, the American Dragon. The Huntsman had actively pursued a plan to somehow find a way of eliminating the fire-breathing reptile, and after three years involving much struggle and toil, he finally developed a mental attack that could finally overthrow the secret world residing around humanity. All high class members in his branch of the Clan knew of where he had been and what his true motives were; everyone, except for Huntsgirl. As far as she knew, he was merely on a business trek, visiting global Clan units as an economic affiliate. He told himself that it wasn't because he didn't trust her, but rather that he wished to reserve her strength and resources for a spell.

And for just a bit longer, it needed to remain as such. To fluidly assure that his plan stay on the rails, he was dependent on his apprentice straying in the haze until all was ready to be revealed.

The Huntsman allowed himself a chuckle as he remembered where his memories had abruptly come to a halt. For someone that only claimed to live to fulfill a purpose, and in which that was traveling on the road to becoming future Mistress of the Clan, school most likely sounded like a terrible idea. The girl rejected, insisting that education and fellow teenagers would only be a waste of her time, focus, and energy. Faced with no option but to comply in the end, Huntsgirl suppressed her refusal and reluctantly took up the proposition. If asked why he chose school, the Huntsman would not know what to answer with. Though eventually, he came to the idea that having her spend hours away from those who could possibly spoil his plot was a good precaution.

But, there then presented a problem.

His absence might have triggered suspicion from the magical world, and the last thing he needed was an investigation that could put his plan in danger. A call late one evening granted Huntsgirl permission to once again take duty upon the field. Sudden inactivity on his part might pose questions and confusion, but if she was at least present, then it could dial down attention.

He could only assume that so much exposure to the civilian world had changed Huntsgirl's views on how she interpreted it. Or, he could be totally wrong. He just hoped all would finish soundly.

"Ah, and here we are," the Huntsman whispered to himself upon approaching a worn-down warehouse. Hand closing around the door knob, his eyes scanned the dark around him to ensure that no one had followed or was silently creeping about before entering the building. Immediately, he was met by a stiff-appearing pair of figures. One male, the other opposite. They resembled facial features, and he could only guess that the two were related; siblings, most evidently. Gaze searching and shoulders tense, they watched him carefully as he strode across the room.

"And...I suspect you are of the council?" the Huntsman questioned slowly as he took a seat in a massive, expensive recliner made of sleek leather. He was not particularly fond that his face was currently exposed to these strangers.

"Not only are we _of_ the council," the middle-aged woman spoke crisply, arms tightening around the clipboard she hugged to her broad chest. "We _are_ the council."

"Only you two?" there was no disguising his surprise.

"We are well capable of managing, if you are indeed scrutinizing," the man stated. "With no large group to bicker and scramble order, we make things much less complex."

"I see..." the Huntsman visibly observed the duo. He could pick up on their snobbish personalities just from their fancy suits and shoes. The younger man's black hair was smoothly combed while the lady's auburn hair was pulled up into a neat bun. Yet, there was an aura of sophistication to them, it could be admitted. Typical authority stance. "May I be so kind to ask your names?"

The male cleared his throat while fixing his striped tie. "I am Manfred, and she, Margaret."

Even the names were fitting to their general look, the Huntsman thought with a smirk.

"Margaret, eh? May I call you Greta?"

Icy blue eyes pierced the Huntsman like shards as her lips formed a thin line. The belittling stare was framed by squared glasses. "Sir, we do have important issues to discuss," Margaret heaved in a breath. "And...I would _prefer_ you not call me by that."

"Oh, come now, Greta," the Huntsman chuckled lightly, shifting in his seat. "Why don't you relax?" he paused, brow furrowing. "To what issues are you referring?"

"The ones where you blindly misuse the Huntsgirl," Margaret chose to ignore his second calling of the teasing nickname. "It is a fatal flaw to your plan, and it will destroy all your studies in getting to this point." Her head cocked to the side. "Such a shame, wouldn't you agree?"

The chair squeaked as the Huntsman steadily got to his feet, palms pressing onto the oak desk as he leaned forward. The councilors were unfazed by the condescending glare. "Misusing?" he inquired, voice gritty and deep. "What ever gave you that indication? I want you to understand, _both of you,_" his finger and pupils pointed to each, "that her help is not a risk...but a lift in what we are fighting for. And if you dare speak of anything to her, I will see you out so quickly it'll make your head spin."

Leaning back up, he crossed his arms.

"Do you have the files I requested?" he continued when all was quiet. "And if you don't, then you can excuse yourselves, as you are useless to me."

Manfred hastily gestured to the clipboard in his sister's arms, who relinquished the item into his possession. Without a word, he delivered the information contained within folders to his commander, politely backing away to an appropriate distance when the board was grabbed. The Huntsman greedily flipped through the papers, absorbing the words and pictures before nodding in approval. "Excellent..." he murmured. "This should really help us in achieving our goal..."

"How would you wish to start?" Manfred asked, sensing it better that he negotiate. "Shall we retrieve the Huntsgirl, explain your return?"

"No," the Huntsman said as he placed the folders down. "I need a couple of days to prepare before I meet with anyone..."

From his back pocket, he drew a knife, the metallic surface stained with fresh blood. Manfred stumbled back in unease while Margaret swallowed. "Oh, but you ask where I want to start...when I already have," he fiddled with the dagger, both councilors watching it warily.

His grin was menacing. "I've sent a message the dragons will surely receive..."


	2. Of Love and Lies

_**-Of Love and Lies-**_

_Millard Fillmore High School,  
__New York City,  
__October 9th,  
__Thursday, 3:02 P.M._

"...And that, hoodlums, is how you can determine the size of a dragon's brain."

The teacher turned from the board, scanning over the sea of uninterested young adults in a sense of expectancy for listening ears. The buzzing silence gave away soft snores and careless whispers, to which the man frowned in frustrated disappointment. His sight fell on a particular student seated toward the back, who didn't look far from repeatedly hitting his head against the hard wooden table where he was stationed at. Curious, as it seemed to be an action more out of disbelief than boredom – _curious,_ because given who this happened to be, it was a shocking miracle that he even had any amount of attention directed toward the lecture.

"Jake Long," the heavily German accented voice drifted across the room. Upon being addressed opposed to any of the other slackers, the young woman beside the accused boy couldn't help but to giggle, golden strands bouncing over her shoulders and cerulean eyes glittering in amusement. "Is there something about the topic of which you don't agree with?"

The Asian-American teen hefted an irritable groan. "Yo, Mr. Rotwood-"

"_Professor-!"_

"Yeah, yeah," Jake waved off the shrill correction, which only succeeded in further stressing the frazzle-haired enthusiast. "You know what? No, I don't agree with your outlandish speech, and do you wanna know why? Because when you say something stupid like being able to figure out a brain size by how a dragon behaves or chooses to live, that is just whack."

"Oh?" Rotwood cocked an eyebrow.

"That's implying that we can judge a human brain size by how we act," Jake persisted in trying to get a solid point across. "And, like, aren't all brains the same size, anyway?"

This question prompted several snickers to break out among the class.

"Well, it certainly is 'whack', Mr. Comedian," Rotwood taunted, a smug smirk pulling at his lips, "that this argument is coming from your failing grade average."

Jake merely shrugged, crossing his arms.

"Besides, who could argue with an expert mythobiologist such as myself?" Rotwood's chest puffed with pride, fingers tugging at the bow-tie secured upon the collar of his blue undershirt. Clearing his throat, he straightened his authoritative stance before adjusting his monocle. "For many years, I have dedicated my life and career to the studies and glory of the hidden magical world. And, while evidence may be...somewhat fruitless thus far...there is no doubt that I am superb at my job..." he broke off with a sharp intake of breath before steadily proceeding into a crazed outburst. "Of course, then it would be difficult to prove any evidence, as every fellow scientific peer thinks of trolls and unicorns to be nothing more than apart of some children's fairy tale books and fables, ah hah!" the teacher nearly choked on his skeptical laugh. "They all merely look away and don't stop to conjure second thoughts on what may be and _is_ possible! Continuously, they wave off the obvious signs even if to appear before mortal eyes, all the while I am just pointed at and labeled a delirious crackpot – _deprived of the fame that I truly deserve!"_

At the conclusion, Rotwood slammed the ruler within his hand down on a nearby desk, alerting those who had dozed off where the rant had failed to do so. A resounding crack followed, stilling the breath of the students as their bodies were stricken with fear, afraid to make even the slightest of movement lest this deranged lunatic were to react in a negative manner. Jake blinked, his horrified gaze switching to the girl next to him, who mirrored his grimace.

Slicing through the awkward silence was the deafening ring of the final bell, signaling the end of yet another mental abusing session and the awaited cue for freedom. Rotwood watched, baffled as everyone stampeded out of the room, leaving behind a chaos of stranded papers and overturned chairs before he could even comprehend the situation. "Okie-dokie," he sighed, the gained anger immediately diminishing at the horrid mess strewn out before him. "Class dismissed."

Shoving past kids who gathered in groups to decrease walking space in the already crowded hallways, Jake decided it better if he just skip the venture to his locker and instead escape the tormenting building. Why not? His mind deemed it much more reasonable to seek out the one who endured Mythology as his partner and claimed his thoughts from the moment he awoke until the time he retired for sleep rather than taking the risk of simply dumping his books elsewhere. Ducking from paper planes and the occasional set of car keys carelessly tossed about, Jake eventually found himself at the entrance doors. And once outside where the brisk air brushed over his warm skin, there, he found her. Standing near the road, sheltered beneath a small tree dressed in autumn leaves. In knowing that he had her attention, Jake put on his best smile, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans and strutting down the steps with smooth bravado.

"Hey, babe, how you doin'?" He asked, nodding his head in general greeting.

"You are such a dork," she commented, giving a fond laugh.

Shrugging at his own attempts to appear casually graceful, Jake leaned in and bumped her shoulder with his. "So, Rose, what we got goin' on for tonight?"

_Rose._

Breath hitching in her throat at not only the physical contact, but also the formal address, she found herself momentarily distant from reality. If only that were her real given name. Granted, it was not a name that held any meaning months prior, but once adjusted to the sound and acquired personality of it, she was certainly envious of who she pretended to be. Who she could never truly become. Of course, to those that she had come to be acquainted with, Rose Hunter is who she was recognized for. Entering middle school midway through the eighth grade year, she had been the center of gossip: a fierce yet quiet person, apparently coming from a fuzzy background. Questions pertaining to her life and previous whereabouts were answered only with dead parents and home schooling. Anything beyond that bit of information was avoided, and while people respected her personal privacy, her mysterious behavior depicted her character. As such, she was singled out from popularity. Not that it mattered. In fact, the adolescent preferred those circumstances in order to keep her secret identity within wraps.

After all, Huntsgirl couldn't be discovered. While it was unlikely that someone could happen upon her being involved with an unknown organization that raised slayers to track mythical creatures believed to be fake, it was a safety precaution to remain isolated in the civilian world.

However, then there was Jake Long.

Like she were akin to that of a floundering fish in the dark depths of the churning ocean, he was the shining example of the sun's rays filtering through the murky waves, guiding her to the surface with such intense curiosity. He stood out from the audience, his overall presence powerful in her observation and therefore stunning her brutal attitude. Of course, this didn't all result at first glance. No, it was a gradual development for Rose to begin taking complete notice of Jake. Their meeting had been three years ago, on the morning of her registration into the educational system. The principal had seen her off with a wish of good luck, the bell having already long since initiated the beginning periods. The halls were devoid of any activity, save for a lone straggler who was in a rush of collecting content from a locker and hastily stuffing things into it. The Huntsman, who was posing as her uncle, had suggested that she ask him for help and even try a hand at making a new friend before bidding his farewell. Huntsgirl had scoffed. She didn't need help, and she certainly didn't need any friends. Even in school, her main focus was to be solely upon the Clan. But, her attempts at avoiding the skater didn't go so well. Maybe it was due to the fact that she was lingering because she had no idea where to go.

"_Hey, um...you seem lost. Are you new here?"_

That's when Rose got a close look at him. Despite her rigid disposition, she had still only been a fourteen year old girl. And he, a fourteen year old guy. Because of this fact, her mind was quick to point out how attractive he was. His skin was of a darker tone than her pale complexion, and his hair a deep black with a unique shade of green tints. The most prominent feature, though, was his eyes. The soft honeycomb irises reflected the glint of the dimmed lights, resembling that of small embers smoldering in the dark corridor. Rose could remember catching her breath, and even to the current day, she remained entrapped by their sparkle.

Then, she remembered to speak.

"_Oh. Uh, yes. I am."_

She intended to walk away after that, but Jake didn't give up so easily. Slamming his locker door shut, he jumped to his feet to chase after her retreating form.

"_Do you need a tour? I could show you around. Er, that is, if you wouldn't mind! I mean, I should be in math right now, but who likes crunching numbers this early in the morning? If you need some direction, then I'd gladly stray for a few more minutes..."_

"_No, I'll manage just fine."_

Her pride had been swift to answer, but through shuffling aimlessly in an unfamiliar setting, Rose finally came to relent to the stubborn male who shadowed her steps. While she found the gesture more annoying than thoughtful, it was mostly puzzling. Were she to speak so firmly to any member of the Clan, they would scurry away with tails between their legs. Jake, apparently, was something special. Trudging alongside him, Rose only responded when necessary as he explained how each subject was divided into distinct sections. Once he dropped her off in the science pod, he specified for her to look for him between transitions if she needed more explanation before heading off to his own destination.

She never once regarded him since.

Time wore on, and Rose had steadily become more comfortable in the public and dealing with society. Her determination to keep distant from classmates held strong, yet she couldn't forget about Jake. He was far too interesting to simply ignore: the consistent tardiness and absences, his always ruffled appearance, and his habit to suddenly disappear from school altogether. It was almost as if he had a secret of his own. And oblivious to her understanding, Rose had begun growing an infatuation for the strange boy, finding him favorable among the rest who judged her for her efforts in staying anonymous. Jake had shown little care for it, treating her like he would anyone else, and that was the reason for the ground to cave in beneath her to finally join his group.

Now, here the two were, a fully respected couple.

Surfacing from the memory, Rose found Jake to be giving her an _'uh, hello?'_ stare. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"For our anniversary, duh!" Jake supplied, his voice hinting that he was slightly taken aback that she could space off something so important. "We should go out for dinner or something to celebrate, don't you think?"

"That's today?!" Rose squeaked. She couldn't believe it. Jake and her were going on two years into their relationship. It started as a silly crush, but something serious was definitely blooming between the duo.

She watched as her boyfriend scratched his neck. "Oh, wait..." he murmured slowly, looking up at the partly clouded sky. "That's actually tomorrow, isn't it..."

The girl exhaled sharply with a snort, rolling her eyes as she tugged on and zipped up her leather jacket while shaking her head at him. He chuckled sheepishly, and Rose smiled in return. "Well, that works out anyway, right? It'll be Friday; we can stay out late..."

"Ooh, and...?" Jake finished suggestively, his eyebrows dancing.

"Gross," Rose hissed jokingly, slapping his arm playfully before pulling him into a lengthy kiss. Her arms automatically circled around his neck as he placed his hands over her waist. Eyes closing, they began to melt into the moment before they were stopped by a disgusted cough. They instantly broke apart, searching for the source that had so rudely interrupted them. An African-American female approached them, hands to her hips as she scrutinized the pair. She was tailed by a stocky man, who wore a vacant expression that implied he was not very aware of his surroundings or the situation.

"Trixie, Spud," Jake growled, visibly displeased.

"If you wanna be doin' stuff like that, then do it where I don't have to witness it, yo," Trixie gagged. "I already have problems with the polluted scenery as is."

An incessant beeping restrained Jake from biting back with a retort, to which he glanced at Rose. She grasped a small device, her index finger silencing the alarm before she placed the pager back at the belt of her pants. "Sorry," she apologized, "but that's my cue to get home. My uncle will be so cross with me if I dare to be a second late..."

Similar to Jake, Rose was often running off. Aside from managing her civilian status, she also couldn't neglect her duty of hunting. No matter how distracting her role as a school girl became, her top priority would always be the Clan. It came first, above all else. Even before spending personal time with Jake, although that was starting to be more of a bother.

"Hey, no sweat," Jake said. "I gotta get to my Gramps, anyhow."

"More work in the shop?" Rose asked.

"Uhhh, yeah," he replied slowly. "It's kinda boring, actually..."

Trixie offered him a lopsided grin. "Yeah," she pretended to agree, elbowing him in the side. "_Really_ boring work!"

Jake rubbed where she had jabbed him, shooting his friend a warning glare that advised that she had better leave it at that, causing Rose to ponder just what it was that the sassy woman meant.

"What's boring?" the other finally piped in, blinking back the haze that usually fogged around his brain.

"Nothing, Spudinski," Trixie said as she grabbed him by the collar of his long sleeved shirt, dragging him along with her. "Come on, we got some serious shredding to attend to!"

The four parted ways with a last goodbye. Trixie and Spud headed left from the school, Jake the opposite, and Rose ducking into an alleyway when she was positive that there was no one aware of her. Her clothing was stripped away from her body to reveal a maroon uniform, and withdrawn from her bag, a matching mask. That signal had been no call for home. It was a warning that magical creatures were near, and that she had a job to pursue. Swiftly, Huntsgirl shifted her bag into a portable pack, snapping it around her waist before flipping up the fire escape to the top of a building. She turned to look back, watching as Jake blended in with the wave of pedestrians before pulling the mask over her head and jumping into action.

* * *

_Canal Street Electronics,  
__New York City,  
__3:31 P.M._

The atmosphere was calm and reserved. The alluring scent of tea leaves wafted in the air, swirling around the nose of a slumbering Shar-Pei. Black eyes blinking open, the gray haired dog lifted his head, sniffing at the vivid smell before grunting in satisfaction. Ginseng was a must on a dreary afternoon. Licking his lips, he stood up to stretch his limbs, shaking off the fatigued ache that had settled in his bones. He paused mid-yawn, ears perked at the sound of feet stepping over the creaking floorboards. An elder Chinese man strode past him, balancing a tray of cups and a kettle as he made his way into the front room of the store. In a bout of eager anticipation, the canine followed, plopping down on his rump beside a large desk as the man climbed onto a stool.

"Plan to share, Lao Shi?" he questioned, stubby tail wagging.

He acknowledged the dog by pouring the steaming liquid into a small cup before handing it over to the awaiting paw. "Careful, Fu Dog, for it is still quite warm."

"Yeah, yeah," the animal guardian answered absently as his tongue lapped at the soothing flavor. Lao Shi looked away, his eyes reflecting the glowing screen of the television set. He muttered beneath his breath in foreign Cantonese. "So," Fu continued after swallowing, eyes flickering to the analog clock. "The kid is late? Again?"

"I am not!"

Jake had just raced into the shop when he exclaimed his own defense, closing the door behind him as he carelessly tossed his bag away. He stopped before his grandfather, performing the customary cultural bow in a show of respect before glowering at Fu. He may have now been seventeen, having vastly grown through his experiences and challenges, but that didn't mean that he fully lived up to his maturity when it came to the comical relationship with his furry sidekick.

"Guess not," Fu feigned disappointment. "The old man seems troubled about something, though."

"What did I do?" Jake grumbled, immediately assuming that it was of his doing as he sat down on the couch propped up against the side of the left wall.

"It does not concern you, young dragon," Lao assured his pupil as he took a gentle sip of his tea. His brow creased as he frowned. "Rather, my fears are toward the terrible event that has recently been brought to light..."

"Hm?"

Lao motioned for the TV, where an elf was reporting on the daily news. Magical news, that is:

"_It is truly a tragic scene here in the Magus Bazaar. For those that might currently be joining us; late last night, a group was brutally murdered, though evidence was not rounded up until early this morning. Each victim was a patient of therapy. According to this devastating fact, a witness who dodged the murderer states that the group was targeted during a session...and committed by their therapist, no less. The assaulter is described as a male, with an origin related to the art of wizardry. Details include fairly pale skin, a balding hair line, and a visible dragon tattoo etched into the flesh upon his head. A wand was left in the wake of the destruction, yet there is no sign of magic being performed or no remnants of it marked on the bodies. Resources, in fact, seem very human. Wounds include lethal knife scars, and -"_

The reception of the aged television began to fade, the screen becoming fuzzy and the female reporter's voice cutting out. "Dang thing..." Fu cursed as he pattered over to try slamming it into working. Though the image was not completely clear, it was still enough to decipher the dialogue and picture.

" _- green substance, which strangely, this particular chemical resembles that of what was used in a homicidal case several years ago. Investigation is ongoing, and the search for this specimen vigorously continues. The motive is blurred at this time, but as our research teams try to unravel the purpose, it is hoped that nothing worse comes into play. More on this developing story coming soon..."_

Lao reached for the remote, powering off the electronic before turning his weary eyes onto his grandson. "Nothing has changed since I stumbled upon this disturbance. I just pray they find who is responsible for such a heinous crime before more harm is dealt..."

"Shouldn't we be helping with the investigation?" Jake asked.

His Dragon Master hummed as he folded his hands into the sleeves of his robe. "The best you can do is keep a watchful vigil for the suspect during your patrols and missions, or when out in town on the streets, traveling from school and home."

"That's it?"

"For now, I'm afraid," Lao regarded Jake's incredulity. "Until we learn more and have an idea of what we are dealing with, it is safer to tread upon solid ground than to plunge into dark waters..."

Jake looked as if he wanted to counter against his mentor's decision, but in the split seconds taken to mull it over, he was inclined to obey the order given. There were too many incidents to count where he had called out his grandfather's judgment and in the end was caught in a tight predicament where as it could have been prevented had he just mimicked the sage's patience and wisdom. Alas, where were they to even start? Jake's guess was that the man had fled into the mortal world, blending in with humans while ducking away from the mythical law. That, and there was the combination of pinpointing his location and determining his identity. For all they knew, he could be anywhere on the continent, or had gone as far as to escape America to seek refuge in another country. For further effect in repelling unwanted attention, he could also take cover as a totally different individual. These possibilities did nothing to quell the nervous pit in his stomach.

"Let us dwell on this after training," Lao stated, intercepting Jake from his predictions. As the two ascended the stairs to the rooftop, a rapid knock sounded at the door from the rear of the shop, where Fu volunteered to handle the visitor.

"Uh, is it smart to let him do that?" Jake hesitated.

"No one ever comes to the back unless it's a friend of Fu's," Lao informed. "Or should I say, a gambling fraud..."

In a flash of blue flames, both Jake and he commanded a change to overtake their bodies. Their shapes grew out into larger, more serpentine forms, their human features drastically changing into that of a dragon. Wicked sharp claws replaced fingers and toes, while their soft skin erupted into a rough coating of scales. Faces stretched into snouts, ears became pointy, and tails whipped out from behind them. Jake sprouted a pair of broad wings while Lao did not.

"What are we practicing today?" Jake asked.

"You might want to hold that off!" Fu cried urgently, trotting out from the attic and up to the floating reptiles. "That knock downstairs was a warning from a leprechaun that Huntsgirl is attacking his buddy!"

"I'm on it!" Jake replied in a beat. "Gramps, you stay here. I can take care of this..."

With a flap of his wings, he shot up and away, letting the wind carry him to where he knew the leprechauns passed between the city and their hideout. He smirked, feeling more confident that he would stop his foe opposed to showing up too late.

* * *

_New York City,  
__4:11 P.M._

"Hand over the gold!"

A girl had a leprechaun trapped in a corner of an alley, the midget creature cowering from her extended staff that threatened to cut him to pieces. He hugged a cauldron of gold close to his chest, his frantic green eyes staring into the ice cold orbs of the Huntsgirl.

"Please, no!" he begged in an Irish voice. "'Tis all I have to support a family in a tough economic crisis!"

"Do I care?" she spat. "My needs are more important than yours. Just give it up and I'll let you walk away."

"Over my dead body!"

Her staff powered up, plasma encircling the tip in a rush of green. "That can be arranged..." she raised her weapon high, ready to deliver the killing strike. The leprechaun flinched, falling to his knees as he braced for impact. The staff was mere inches away from his head before it came to an abrupt halt. Popping an eye open, the creature chanced a peek, only to gasp in delight as he found a claw gripping what had nearly been his demise.

"Resorting to mugging the defenseless now, are we?" Jake taunted, clucking his tongue. "To think that you could sink so low..."

"Dragon!" Huntsgirl barked. She tried to pry her staff away from the beast, but he snapped the stick clean in half, the severed upper portion of the weapon clattering uselessly to the cement. His thick tail slammed into her, throwing her into the waste of a dumpster. She slumped, sinking into the assortment of garbage in a temporary daze.

"Get out of here," Jake motioned for the leprechaun to run.

"I am forever in your debt, lad..." he murmured before scrambling into the shadows, his gold coins jingling as they bounced in the black pot.

Jake snorted, black wisps of smoke exiting his nostrils before evaporating. "Now, where -"

A fist connected with his cheek, causing him to grunt in pain as he was sent reeling. He tripped over his struggle to regain balance, falling flat onto his back. Huntsgirl towered above him, pressing her boot into his stomach to anchor him to the ground. She knelt lower, shifting her leg so that her knee was digging into the sensitive scales of his abdomen while her feet and hands pinned his legs and arms, rendering him helpless to retaliate. Jake squirmed beneath her.

"Oh, so you like this position?" he purred.

Huntsgirl blanched in disgust. "Pervert-!"

Her hold on him loosened, and Jake used this opportunity to his advantage. His tail coiled around her ankles, yanking her down, causing her to release her clutch on his wrists and granting him the mobility he needed to throw her off of him. Huntsgirl shifted her legs beneath her so as to catch herself gracefully before charging at him. Jake flipped backward, planting his feet on the ground as he unleashed his fire breath upon the enemy. She sidestepped the blast with incredible agility, aiming her fury for his unprotected left side. He swiftly spun around, parrying her punches and kicks with his muscled forearms, sneaking a swipe of his tail in an attempt to set her off rhythm . She vaulted over the appendage, and whilst mid-air, Jake kicked her into the wall of a building. The red dragon lunged, only to come face-to-face with bricks as his target rolled out of his path.

"You scaly brute!" Huntsgirl yelled, kicking him in his ribs. "You always stick your nose into my business! Because of you, my profit got away!"

Blood dripped from Jake's mouth as he lazily turned his head up to her. He made no motion to attack. He only lay there, watching as she snagged a dagger from her pack. She stood firm, her finger tracing over the blade as she studied her prey. It all happened so fast; she swung, and his talons slashed her arm, ripping through the fabric of her suit and sinking into her flesh. Huntsgirl screamed, dropping the knife and cradling her arm as it oozed blood from the deep cuts. Jake jumped up into the sky, hovering over her and spying the crimson color that stained her clothing. He smiled, his jagged white teeth also stained with the same red.

"You should get home," he said. "Get you some band aids."

With that, Jake swept above the buildings and disappeared, leaving Huntsgirl with the brutal loss. She blinked back tears as her mask was torn away, leaning against the wall that she had crashed into only some moments ago.

_Defeated again..._

She limped out onto the street, grasping her injured arm with a pained whimper.

_Thank goodness the Master is not here to see me as an utter failure..._


	3. Wavering Storm

_**-Wavering Storm-**_

_New York City,  
__October 9th,  
__Thursday, 5:42 P.M._

Heavy footsteps dragged across the floor, the calm silence breaking with every pained gasp elicited from the female figure who stumbled down a barren hallway. She fell against the wall, shoulder supporting her weight as she grasped her right arm. Shallow breaths escaped her throat as pressure formed around where her fingers clutched the wound, causing her teeth to clench and eyes to shut tightly in reaction to the stinging throb. Her back ached and her legs wobbled. The girl's body had been dealt more harm than previously apparent, and shouldn't it be so as she was thrown recklessly about in battle by the hands of her enemy.

That _dragon._

Pushing herself up to stand once again, the young woman managed enough determination to reach the nearest door, kicking it in and tripping into the room. Once secured in the privacy of her own quarters, Huntsgirl allowed her emotions to finally seep out, tears pooling down her cheeks as she pressed her back to the closed door. Her hand reached for the mask, gently pulling the cloth from her head and gripping the material within her palm. Her gaze was lost, vision blurred as she wept. When had she become so weak? Through broken bones and deteriorating health, never would the future head of the Clan be reduced to crying. Faced with countless failures, never would her resolve be faltered, but only strengthened. And yet, here she drowned in her latest defeat. What changed? Across the room, her image reflected in a mirror, her appearance horribly disheveled by puffy red eyes and a mess of strewn out hair. However, it was not her that she was looking at. No, it was the opposite, her other half; _Rose._ It made her wonder, made her _realize_ – perhaps – that who she pretended to be was bleeding through her true form. Her aggression and tough molding was being replaced with innocence and a lack of will power...no, Rose Hunter was not innocent. She was an embodiment of a lie, but now, these possibilities unnerved Huntsgirl. She could not let her school girl persona show through her actions.

Her movement was sluggish as she walked to her dresser, where she rummaged through several drawers in a mission to locate a first aid kit. Bottom lip quivering in a pout, she snagged the plastic box and forced it open.

She was strong, the warrior reminded herself as she tore away the sleeve of her outfit, discarding the fabric into the garbage can beside her bed. Tentatively, she began to spread an antibiotic over the shredded skin to prevent infection, hissing as the cool sensation of the ointment burned her open injury. Huntsgirl figured that she was just experiencing pent-up frustration. She was merely a human, after all. There would be such a point in time where she could only handle so much. The huntress was not weak, nor was she growing into her lesser alter ego._ One day, dragon, the tables will turn..._she threatened wordlessly while proceeding to wrap the bloodied and sickly purple-bruised injury with a thick bandage.

"Miss?"

The sudden voice startled Huntsgirl from her musings, a sharp knock following shortly after.

She cleared her throat. "Yes?"

Despite her regards to the visitor, it was by no means an invitation to step in. Unless the word 'enter' was spoken, then this man had no given permission to advance from his place in the corridor, except back from where he came. On occasion, Huntsgirl was rather generous aside from her rough attitude and would allow passage to any that sought her attention. Today was different. She couldn't risk for one to witness her current state. It could destroy her reputation. The apprentice of the most respected member of the Clan could not be viewed as sensitive and pathetic.

"I've been ordered to retrieve you; there is...someone important requesting your attendance for a formal dinner."

Huntsgirl snapped the kit shut. A formal dinner? That was a big deal. She assumed it to be a traveling high rank officer, surveying updates in the regional area and naturally staying as a guest of honor. Generals such as these only stopped in every so often, and if not always, expected her presence because of her status as a right-hand assistant to her mysteriously vanished Master. She would be a fool to decline this event.

But to accept the offer, right now?

"Of course," Huntsgirl answered. "I just need to prepare. Give me an hour?"

Though it was proposed as a question, the tone suggested that it was more of a command. Almost, it seemed she dared for this man to test her, to deny her wish. Luckily, he was smart and caught the hint, maybe having heard tales of those who were not so fortunate: "Yes, miss. I shall await your leave."

She lingered, not moving as she listened to him retreat before tucking the first aid box back into its proper spot in the dresser. Collecting a towel from her closet, she strode into the bathroom and stripped her tattered uniform before pulling her braid loose to release her wave of golden hair, strands spilling down her back and over her bare shoulders. Turning the water on, she stretched her sore limbs while patiently waiting for the liquid to warm up before stepping into the tub, closing the curtain and feeling the drops with a sigh of contentment as they drenched her body.

* * *

Blue eyes gazed into the glass.

Having decided that she was finished getting ready, Huntsgirl carefully observed her completed handiwork in the mirror; lips glossed, hair curled, and clad in a one-shoulder maroon dress, she admired her form with a small smile. It was a bit of a stretch from her comfort zone, as due to her athleticism she preferred an average style, but it could be admitted that it didn't hurt to feel pretty every once in a blue moon. After all, it was a formal dinner, so it was an important requirement to appear – well, formal. She just wasn't very fond of so much exposed skin and squeezing her feet into stilettos. While adjusting the belt accessory around her waist, the Clan insignia in the form of the buckle reflecting in the overhead light, she caught a glimpse of her bandaged arm and hesitated. Huntsgirl certainly didn't need her failure to be a prime subject over the feast. How could she hide it? Amidst looking around the room while pondering for an idea, she sauntered over to her bed, where the bag that once contained her dress was draped over the quilt. From the plastic, she withdrew the solution: a pair of fingerless sleeves, to match with her elegant clothing. Puffing a breath of relief, she pulled the garments over her arms, where the cuffs ended at her elbows. Hands to her hips, she beamed – _Now,_ she was ready.

"Mistress?"

And not a moment too soon, it seemed. After making positive that all lights and electronics were off and unplugged, Huntsgirl exited her apartment to greet her escort. She recognized the guy as one of the two siblings who operated the Clan's council. Not necessarily by name, as it eluded her memory, but just from placing the familiar face. Even then, it would be easy to assume that he was of political power just by sensing the arrogant aura that emanated in waves off of his person. It was near nauseating.

"You look absolutely stunning, milady," he commented, giving a bow. "I can promise that your efforts in cleaning up will not have been wasted..."

He offered her a grin. It was not by any means a friendly one, but rather condescending – one that mocked her by stating that he knew far more than she did. He may have thought his expression to be unreadable, but thanks to her calculating and observant nature, she could see the message conveyed through his stretched lips and sneering eyes. Still, she ignored her instincts and acted with kindness, allowing him to guide her through the mazes of the gigantic mansion. Her heels clicked over the tiled floor, being the only noise resulting between the festering silence between the duo.

Huntsgirl rubbed her arms.

What if he was aware of something that she didn't know of? What if this was something more than just a simple dinner party? She would be lying if she said that she wasn't just a bit nervous. Her mind must have been lost with these possibilities, as she almost didn't register that the councilor suddenly stopped and almost bumped right into his tall back. Towering before them was an ornate set of double doors, tinted a dark crimson red and trimmed with polished gold metal. Huntsgirl went rigid. This was not the entrance to the dining hall that she was expecting. No, only one known person could reside behind that steel barrier.

Someone who had left her to basically fend for herself three years prior.

_It can't be..._her heart hammered heavily in her throat. _It's not...is it?_

From the room beyond, the doors slowly opened, sweeping back to reveal a man seated at the far end of a table. His bulking figure was faintly outlined by the dim setting of lights, casting an eery glow over the dragon skull that rested atop his head. He was the notorious pack leader, her well respected mentor, and one she recently had come to call a family member: he was the Huntsman. His dark eyes gleamed at her beneath the shadow of his helm, and it was not fear that enveloped her like once before. Perhaps there was a bit of hostility toward him due to his abandoning her, but one feeling was evident, and that was comfort. She was raised by this person, and while experiences between them could be scary and a bit challenging, she was most confident near him and no other. She was personally glad that he had finally returned to New York. Striding past the councilor, Huntsgirl took the chair on the opposing side of her teacher, crossing her leg and placing her hands into her lap. She stared intently at the man, questions of all kinds buzzing in her mind. Where had he been for so long? Why did he leave?

"Thank you, Manfred," the Huntsmaster spoke, his voice catching his student off guard, for she had forgotten just how deep and powerful that it could be. "That will be all from you tonight."

The man shifted in uncertainty. "But...sir...?"

"Excuse me?" the Huntsman barked, jumping to his feet and slamming the palms of his hands onto the tabletop, causing silverware to clatter and the vase of flowers to tremble. Huntsgirl flinched. Not at the anger displayed from him, but in fear for the fellow male. "Are you questioning me? Are you _really_ going to make me repeat myself?"

Manfred gulped, hanging his head low. "I – of...of course not, sir!" he stuttered hastily, backpedaling from the office before bowing and turning to quickly scramble out of sight. The teenager slipped a hand over her mouth, stifling an amused laugh. The Huntsman drew in a deep breath, broad shoulders relaxing as he reclaimed his seat, fixing his cape before motioning for the guards to secure the doors. They then departed, leaving teacher and pupil to face one another alone.

"I swear, measly snot-dribbling children are much more enduring than those incompetent business prudes," he mused before leaning on his elbows, cupping his hands. "I'm sure you've noticed the vacant table? This is still very much a dinner gathering. The food should be arriving shortly."

Huntsgirl blinked absently at him.

"But where are my manners? My dear, it is wonderful to see you again after so long..."

She inclined her head toward him. "Master, it is an honor..."

"My, how much you've grown..." his gaze searched her. "The years and training have certainly shaped you into quite the young adult, and such an admirable slayer..."

She smiled, but she wasn't here for fond comments. The fact remained: three years ago, he had dumped her into another life and ran away, never even confronting her before he left and expecting her to carry the burden of his tasks and responsibilities on the field while he went off and...what, traveled? Across from her he sat, addressing her as if he didn't ship her to some unfamiliar civilian establishment, stranded and helpless as to what she should do and why it had resulted. No other Clan employee had ever been sentenced to serve outside the academy as punishment of consistent failure. What made her different? What made him think it was okay to do such a thing? Of course, as conflicting as it had been, she wasn't mad. She respected this man fully, but she needed confirmation. Her demeanor hardened, intent on getting answers that he was going to give.

"There seems to be something on your mind?" he noticed. "Well, go on. Spit it out."

"I'm just surprised," Huntsgirl admitted. "You suddenly leave me and all I ever get is a phone call? You force me into a public school where I was a sitting duck with no experience and any idea as to how I should handle that and my hunting schedule all at once, while taking a somewhat leading role in your absence, and now you just show up out of nowhere and invite me to what I can only assume is an attempt at an apology?"

No, she wasn't mad, but all the frustration that had formed a pooling mess over time was now finally pouring out and making her appear the exact opposite of calm and respecting.

He sat up straight, crossing his arms. "I knew this was going to come up at some point..."

"And why shouldn't it have?!" she demanded.

"Huntsgirl, please, don't you trust me?" the Huntsman asked.

She didn't reply. Through growing up by his side, she learned it a lesson to never doubt him or question his motives. And for the most part, he had always given her the utmost reason to put all her trust into his judgment. But now, after being dealt like a pair of useless cards, she was cautious and wasn't quite willing to follow him into hell without first knowing what she was getting herself into. "Why did you leave?" the volume of her voice dropped to a whisper, sounding confused and displaced. "Where did you go?"

"Don't you remember my report?" he inquired. "I visited Clan bases worldwide, from the smallest towns to the largest cities, posing as an economic affiliate to evaluate stocks and trades as well as efficiency of gaining profit on the field. I stayed for nights on end before leaving one post to the next, so that can explain the extended period of my...disappearance..."

That made sense, but she never knew her 'uncle' to be one of value when it came to an area of study such as arithmetic.

"But...why...?"

"My errands should not concern you," he stated. "Rather, your concern should be focused on your bad arm..."

She blanched. Bad arm? How could he have known? It was hidden and covered from view. Or, so she thought. Looking down, Huntsgirl could see a faint but apparent blotch of red staining the silk fabric of the sleeve. Internally, she cursed. It would have been smarter on her part to wrap the wound _after_ showering. Due to the moisture that soaked the bandage, it caused her skin to itch and for her to subconsciously scratch the irritating spot. As a result, it must have reopened the scar and the more she applied pressure, the more it produced blood and seeped through the gauze. Well, so much for keeping her humiliating defeat a secret. She tensed up. The sole purpose for ridding of her was because of losing to the American Dragon. She was finding herself in the same situation, except now, probably much worse. She shrank beneath his stare, hiding her injured arm beneath the table where he could not see it. But the damage had already been done. He was now aware that she had been trying to hide her mistake from him.

"What is this about?"

"I'm sorry, Master!" she blurted. "But you just don't understand. He grows stronger just as I do, which makes him no easy target or -"

"Huntsgirl, take it easy," the Huntsman cut her off, holding up his hands to stop a seething rant from developing. "Do not stress. I merely wanted to know what it is that happened, but now, it's quite obvious to me that your problems with our infamous enemy have only continued..."

She nodded guiltily, swallowing hard before holding her breath and bracing her body. This is when he was going to explode. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"...Why do you act as if I'm going to hit you?"

She popped an eye open, completely stunned. Where was the yelling and the threats and the throwing her in a pit with a kraken? "Aren't you mad?"

"Mad?" he echoed. "No, I'm not angry with you. In fact, I'm feeling quite generous."

His voice turned slinky, and that worried her. It meant that he had something nefarious planned. She barely registered that the chef had just entered, placing a steaming hot plate of food in front of each of them. Cups of water followed before the Huntsman offered his thanks and shooed the cook back to his duty in the kitchen. He unraveled the napkin that held the silverware, using his knife and fork to immediately begin cutting into the slab of steak. Huntsgirl did not touch her serving. She was now afraid of his lack of rage toward her where she was once relieved that it had not come forth. It meant that whatever he had planned somehow involved herself.

"Generous?" she squeaked.

Chewing slowly, he waited to digest his mouthful before explaining. "I do understand your dilemma, my dear. Because of his rigid training and knowledge of our system, the American Dragon has proven to be a formidable foe that, I'll admit, I can't even take down. He has faced groups of our own vast numbers, still managing to emerge victorious all the same. And while it's a pain that we can't catch him, he is more of a nuisance when he interrupts our hunts and prevents us from netting any magical creatures, which is now becoming a daily occurrence. Because of him, our income is low and we are suffering from it. He _needs_ to be stopped.

"And so, during my time away, I've come to devise a plan. One that, with patience and a willing mind, can finally off that annoying dragon through exploiting his weaknesses with a series of tests and trials. Following his disposal, we can then cleanse the New York area without any obstacles, and even more..."

This sounded amazing, like a dream conjured up every night made up of promise and power.

But to kill off the American Dragon so easily? That really was a dream.

"And, uh, how exactly do you plan to do that?" Huntsgirl asked, deciding to now start digging into her own food. She lazily slouched over the table, leaning on her elbow and resting her head in the palm of her hand.

"Through psychological study," the Huntsman replied. "First, we need to capture him. Through captivity, we experiment on him in order to determine what his areas of potential vulnerability are. Basically, we break him down in a scientific manner, such as by studying his mind and movement in battle."

"Why not just catch him, kill him, and be done with it?" Huntsgirl bluntly suggested, using her fork to play with her vegetables. "I don't see why we have to bring him here and play scientist. Let's just slay him before he would have the chance to find a way to escape!"

The Huntsman pressed his back to the chair, chuckling lightly as he reached his hand through the gaping jaw of the skull helm to massage his temples. His apprentice was a bright and intelligent girl, molded by knowledge, strength, and growing in age, but she was still very naïve. She was not grasping the sheer magnitude that his ingenious had composed. "There is much more to it than just to eliminate him. No, this will affect all of the magical community..."

Huntsgirl glanced up at him. "...Because he won't be around to mess with us anymore?" she guessed lamely, shrugging afterward before going back to pick at her meat.

A smirk curled up the Huntsman's face, his eyes aglow with anxious joy. "Oh, _much_ more than that." he clapped his hands, rubbing them together in a gleeful manner. "You see, like any species, dragons are all alike in body; that means they share the same weaknesses, correct? Though, unfortunately for us, determining those weaknesses is very difficult. While we are aware of the method to strike the soft underbelly and behind the left ear for a clean kill, attacking those critical points is no easy matter. And because their layers of scales serve as a body armor, that increases the problem in landing an effective attack, which means it is necessary to now further investigate a dragon's anatomy..."

Huntsgirl grimaced: this happened to be one of those nasty topics that had enough power to avert her appetite. She pushed her plate away from her, clearly displeased. "What, you want to cut the dragon up? What is that going to accomplish other than seeing his gross insides?"

"No, we're not going to_ cut him up,_" the Huntsman clarified with emphasis. "When I mention anatomy, I mean examining the body in depth: discovering pressure points, memorizing each and every bone, exploiting where more heavy damage can be dealt..."

"Okay," Huntsgirl hummed with thought. "I get it. But what about the psychological stuff you are referring to? How is that going to help?"

"While the human-like intelligence that dragons display is dangerous, it is also an advantage to this cause," he began. "Anything and everyone functions through the mind. An example is professors who study criminal minds: through this technique, they learn all about the subject and how he works simply through breaking down a thought process. In a similar fashion, the dragon can reveal many details to us, where we can eventually use what we learn to finally wipe out all of the dragons!"

It made sense. Except, it didn't.

"...Your plan is to sit every dragon down like a patient?"

The Huntsman groaned. The girl must have sensed his growing agitation, as she suddenly drew back, her face akin to the expression of a child who may have just crossed a line and would proceed to be grounded. "All studies will sum up to weaknesses acquired. All dragons will share this. What we learn from the American Dragon..."

"...We use toward the remaining dragons!" she finished as realization dawned on her, to which he nodded. Finally, she understood. "That's incredible. When do we start?" she asked, reaching for her glass of water.

"Right away." the Huntsman replied. "We will start as early as tomorrow, that is, after we withdraw you from the public school..."

Huntsgirl was gulping down the contents of her cup when his words sunk in, and as her eyes widened, she choked on the water before spitting it out across the table. She rubbed at her throat in an attempt to cease the sore ache that was gathering there while regaining her breath. "Excuse me?"

"I will need your full time and cooperation in this plan," the Huntsman stated casually. "That means I need you here and not distracted by any of that nonsense."

"B...but...but I..." she couldn't help but to stutter, being that she was so forcefully caught off guard by the order. Following all the trouble caused in enrolling her, all the time it took for her to adjust to a new life, now only to just yank her away from it all? What sense was in that action? She was enjoying the feel of being normal, of blending in with society and forgetting her worries that came with the Clan. Here, she was an expectation who needed to obey every rule and carry an entire legacy on her shoulders. There, she was a simple teenage girl with all the freedom in the world.

"Is that a bother?" the Huntsman questioned. "I thought you didn't even like the idea of going to a school or generally doing anything outside the Clan?"

Was it really the severe difference in her other life that she was afraid to leave, or was it something entirely opposite? Something on a more personal scale? It was then she figured, she could care less about that place or anyone in it. Because it was not school that made her feel so free from restraints, but the one who made it worthwhile to show up there. Her boyfriend, _Jake Long._ Huntsgirl was almost sure that her heart was crumbling. Without intention, she had allowed her affection to be captured by this boy, while only enduring school as a temporary punishment. How could she be so dumb? She had known all along that she would disappear just as quick as she had appeared, yet he was just too much to resist. But as much as it hurt to accept it, Huntsgirl knew that her duty to the Clan was her sole purpose, and she would have to let him go in order to fulfill that destiny.

"You're right, Master," she bowed her head. "I have no problem with it..."

She knew the words were a lie at the instant they tumbled from the tip of her tongue. Maybe it was best to forget that Jake had ever existed, but that didn't mean she was okay with making that choice.

"Good," he settled back, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. "With you out of that cesspool, you can focus your complete attention on researching our soon-to-be... house guest. The dragon will require constant supervision, and to maintain that, you will be stationed to his holding cell -"

"_What?"_

Huntsgirl almost nearly repeated a spit-take. She placed the cup onto the table with slightly more force than intended, her hard gaze shooting to the Huntsman. Capturing the dragon and monitoring him alone would be enough of a hassle. Now he wanted her to share space with the brute?

"You want me to _babysit_ that freak, too?!"

"We both know of his abilities to escape even the most trapping environments and situations," he responded, his calm and controlled voice indicating that he was nowhere near phased by her outburst, which may have well been for her own good that he didn't react negatively. "A close eye is important in keeping him grounded. And what, do you expect to study from him while walled up in your own quarters? No. That's obviously not how it's going to work. To learn from him, you will need to be in direct contact with him."

Huntsgirl snorted, crossing her arms and turning her head to the side.

"Do you understand?"

What choice did she have? To refuse would be asking for a heaping mound of trouble, and to argue or make negotiations wouldn't be a significant source of help, either. And if there was any bright side to this, it was that the American Dragon would soon be no more. The pesky thorn in her side would vanish, and at last, she could attain a higher rank and ascend to a closer step in becoming a full-fledged leader to take the Huntsman's place in the future. "Yes, Master," she sighed.

"Excellent," the Huntsman beamed with satisfaction, clearly relieved that matters were settled and swept out of his way. Huntsgirl, on the other hand, was not so pleased with any of this. Not when it suddenly involved her having to play babysitter. The mood to converse evaporated, and along with it, her desire to finish dinner.

"Permission for dismissal?"

"You are excused," the Huntsman said. "You will need plenty of rest for tomorrow's events. I understand that it is quite a bit for you to absorb. We will discuss more on this, but until then, you have the luxury of enjoying your night."

She stood quickly, slipping out into the hallway before racing as fast as her heels could take her. Perhaps it was unwise to neglect speaking of her thanks or performing a customary bow, but she truly was overwhelmed. Her energy faded as she arrived at her apartment, kicking her foot back to slam the door behind her as she trudged forward and collapsed onto her bed. Switching out of her dress and into more comfortable attire was the last thing on her mind as she buried her face into the pillows. She was paralyzed with shock.

Why was she the one to receive the butt-end of the stick when it came to that inferior dragon? How could she possibly turn her back on Jake?

Pushing herself up into a sitting position, Huntsgirl lazily unstrapped her heels and threw them to the floor before pulling her knees up to her chest, staring out the window at the pale round form of the moon. Jake was the most amazing person. Even when she never wanted to give him a chance, he was willing to share his time and kindness when all the other classmates ever did was judge her. She never asked for his help or his attention, but he was always around to offer it. She knew it was because he cared. He may have been the only person to ever really genuinely _care_ for her. He didn't like her just for her looks, he had true feelings for her, and she knew that she did for him. He was the only person that could break her rough outline and make her feel like a normal human being. He could erase her stress and make her feel as light as rain when she always felt like as heavy as an iron weight.

Her stomach began to curl. She couldn't even fathom the outcome of having to break Jake's heart – nor her own.

As quickly as she had changed into a pair of pajamas, Huntsgirl drifted off into a restless sleep.

* * *

_New York City,  
__October 10th,  
__Friday, 6:40 A.M._

"Huntsgirl!"

Clambering noises sounded from within the room, accompanied by various grumbled curses and whispered words that were probably best to be left unheard. The Huntsman impatiently tapped his foot, rolling his eyes as he knocked for what seemed to be the umpteenth time. "Are you quite finished in there?"

She burst out of the bathroom, going from slipping on her shoes to checking her hair to then trying to locate her book bag in a hurried frenzy. For it being the end of the week, it sure did feel like a rotten Monday. Maybe it was due to the fact that Huntsgirl was groggy from lack of rest due to her tormenting thoughts, grouchy because so much was expected of her that she didn't even want any part in doing, and _if the Huntsman knocked one more time -_

"On my way out, Master!" she called.

Picking her bag up from where it had partially been hidden under a pile of dirty clothes, she slung it over her shoulder before rushing for the door. She put on her best smile as she came face-to-face with the man, though she wasn't feeling what her lips were reflecting at all. This was one of the rare moments where she caught a glimpse of her Master without his skull helm, as it was not needed when blending in with civilians out in the streets. Her eyes were glued to his face, where the flesh was missing one important detail: the dragon tattoo that marked humans with the ability and heritage to slay magical creatures. It was invisible where as usually it could be seen from his neck extending up to curl around the left side of his head, the mouth of the dragon opened wide around his eye. She knew that he covered the mark by some kind of concealing use so as not to draw attention to the strange design or perhaps a disguised mythical being that might recognize the symbol and attack.

"Let's be quick about it. I don't want to be preoccupied with this for very long. We have much more important things to prepare for..."

"Of course..." Huntsgirl pretended to agree. She knew that she should be ecstatic about finding ways to annihilate the dragon race and with it, all of magic, but she just wasn't enthusiastic about what she had to throw away in getting to that point. It almost felt as if she was sacrificing herself for this plan, and it was a horrible feeling that she didn't entirely understand. Her loyalty would always be to the Clan, so why was she feeling as though she were being ripped apart from the inside, of being robbed of life?

The transit to Millard Fillmore High School was fast and quiet. The silence was eating at Huntsgirl, who knew that by every passing minute, she was getting closer to having to confront Jake. She didn't even know what she was going to say. How could she look him in the eye when taking his heart and shattering it into thousands of tiny pieces? How could she summon up the words to speak? She twitched in the backseat of the car, twiddling her thumbs and glancing around uneasily at the passing buildings. Before she knew it, she was being escorted by her 'uncle' to the entrance of the school. She was almost sure that her body was rattling from nerves.

Maybe she would get lucky. There was the sliver of hope that she wouldn't even bump into Jake, perhaps by him arriving late or her being stealthy. Maybe he wouldn't even show up at all. This entire process would be so much simpler if she didn't have to be here with the Huntsman as he pulled her from the school records. Why _did_ she need to be here if he could do all the work as her supposed guardian? It's not like she had to sign papers or physically be there for any reason. But her fears seemed to calm down as they neared the main office. Maybe she could avoid a disaster after all -

"Hey, Rose!"

She nearly screeched as the voice carried over the bustling students. Stiff as a board, she turned to find Jake approaching her with a wave and smile. Huntsgirl swallowed hard, now knowing she had to face this and for the time being, had to be Rose Hunter for one last time. She grinned in return, not sure if it looked fake or betrayed her emotions. After all, he could always read her like an open book.

"Um, Jake! Hi!" she greeted in return.

The Huntsman leaned down to her, whispering in her ear: "I can take care of matters in the office. You just make sure to finish things between your...little _friend."_

Given the way he referred to Jake and the smirk thereafter, Huntsgirl figured that he must somehow know of how deep and committed their relationship was. She flushed wildly with embarrassment, self-conscious of the heat that was radiating off her cheeks as the Huntsman vanished and Jake finally reached her. She presented no words, only smiling and fidgeting in place.

"Hey, what's up?" Jake asked, shifting the skateboard that was tucked underneath his arm.

"Oh, you know," she shrugged, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Just...standing around, waiting on my uncle, I guess..."

"Your uncle?" he echoed, working on unclasping his helmet. He sloppily stuffed it into his bag accompanied by his board, the too long item jutting out at a dangerous angle, threatening to catch someone who was unaware when passing behind the skater. "Wow, I think I've only seen him, like, once. Is he here for a conference or somethin'?"

Rose faltered, glancing away and suddenly finding her shoes to be of great interest. This was it. She couldn't run away, she couldn't keep smiling, she couldn't keep _lying..._

"Hey, Rosebud, are you okay?"

Oh, no, not the nickname. She bit her lip, forcing the strength to turn her head up in response to his worried question. His brow was furrowed in concern and she just knew that he would have been able to sense her discomfort and probably strange behavior.

"Rose -?"

"I'm leaving, Jake," she spit out, voice cracking into an unsteady waver as she spun away from him, holding her arms tightly in an encouraging matter. Her throat felt as if it were tightening and it was hard for her to breathe. "I'm leaving, far away from here..."

But that wasn't true. In fact, she was still going to be so close to this place, to _him,_ yet it was going to feel so very far away because it was all going to be closed away from her forevermore.

Jake blinked, slowly absorbing what she had said while also trying to come to terms with it all at once. "You're...leaving?" His own voice broke when he repeated the news for himself. _Far away,_ the words echoed in his now clogging brain. "But...where are you going? How can I talk to -"

"Don't you understand?!" she struggled to fight back tears, her bubbling emotions causing her volume to raise unintentionally. She swung around to face him, fists clenched with the raw anger she felt for herself in having to go through with this, in having to put innocent Jake through it as well. "You'll never see me again. I'll never come back here. We can never talk to each other again..." she had to suck in a deep breath to will herself to say this next bit that was already making her stomach swell and heart clench. "_It's over,_ Jake..."

Time came to a freezing halt. It was almost like watching his face in slow motion, changing from shocked to devastated to absolutely crestfallen in a matter of seconds – and it was all because of her. The tears were evident now as they slid down her face. She didn't even bother to wipe them away. Everything around her slowed down, yet everything was moving too fast. People were staring, wondering, _judging._

"I – I'm so sorry..." Rose mumbled, and with that, she was gone. Jake's lips moved, wanting to call out to her running form, but only could manage to reach for air. His arms dangled limply to his sides as he watched her disappear beyond the doors for what was surmised to be the last time.


	4. Breaking Point

_**-Breaking Point-**_

_The water below, gentle waves sounding as they splash upon the rock..._

_The beating warmth of the sun suspended above, enveloping the land with showers of glimmering light..._

_Legs dangling lively over the edge of the cliff, feet kicking and swinging..._

_A hand in my own, fingers twined and palms pressed together..._

_Blue irises swallow me whole, sucking me into a vast swirling vortex of an oceanic hurricane, the effects dizzying me with fortune and bliss..._

_Pale cheeks tinted with a blush, she squeaks, sounding nervous: "I think you're pretty amazing..."_

"_I know you are," I return, flashing her a confident smile._

_A slight breeze flits about, pulling on the beautiful girl's hair, loose strands framing her perfect face. I move my arm forward, tucking away the bangs that obscure her vision behind her ear, marveling at how soft her skin feels beneath my touch. My own flesh tingles at the contact, sending a thrilling spark through my body that I'm more than willing to welcome. She is suddenly drawing near, and I find that my heart is rapidly quickening in pace as our foreheads meet, breaths mingling in electrifying excitement. Eyes shut, her lips are coming oh so close as to where I'm already anticipating the taste of the sweet apple gloss upon the pink of her mouth. Finally, we clash, my head exploding and stomach erupting and it's just so -_

"_Aiyah, Jake, pay attention!"_

* * *

_Canal Street Electronics,  
__New York City,  
__October 13th,  
__Monday, 4:13 P.M._

Jake started in surprise, back pushing off the bone-chilling concrete of the rooftop, jumping to his feet and nearly tripping over a long red tail in the process. Hair frazzled and eyes wide, he looked around himself in a frantic manner. "What? What happened? Where am I? Huh?" he stammered pathetically as he began to take in his surroundings with more clarity, finding that they were much different than the scene that his mind had just been reenacting.

That's right; it was after school, and he was at his grandfather's shop for training. That tail had been his own, his body covered in the red scales that gleamed in the now setting sunlight. Rubbing his neck, he snorted, wisps of black smoke escaping his nostrils. He couldn't remember showing up at the shop, let alone even waking up that morning. Everything was a blur, and had been since his heart was grabbed, stomped into millions of tiny pieces, and thrown to the ground for anyone to carelessly walk upon the shattered remains. Apparently his imagination had carried him away from reality once again, as by judging the faces of those standing around him, he figured he was not participating as much as he should be. His grandfather didn't seem pleased in the least.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" Fu asked from his lounging position on a beach chair, glancing up from the newspaper with a raised brow. "Ever since your lady friend dumped you like trash into a garbage can, you haven't been acting exactly...right."

Jake blinked slowly, shaking his head in an attempt to regain himself and to rid of any lingering delirium before waving off the animal guardian. "What? Pfft...I'm totally fine! I'm right as...rain?" he offered lamely, giving a sheepish smile.

"Playa, _please,_" Jake turned to the exasperated scoff, finding Trixie glaring sternly at him, placing her hands on her hips as she continued on to berate her friend. "We all know how messed up that head of yours has been as of late, floatin' in the clouds!" she pointed an accusing finger in his direction. "You're even worse than Spud, and that's _saying something,_ boy!"

"Yeah," Spud piped in agreement, nodding as he sipped at a soda through a bendy-straw. "Like, ever since Rose-o gave you the ol' heave-ho, you haven't really..." he trailed off, staring forward blankly before glancing over at Trixie. "Wait, what did you say about me?"

Trixie put her hands up, making quick work to veer away from the question: "Look, all I'm tryin' to say is that you need to pull yourself back up, Jakey."

He looked between the two and frowned. While at first wondering why they were even present, as most usually they never accompanied him to training and preferred the skate park after school, he assumed they were sticking around because he 'needed help' or 'they were worried about him' or some such nonsense.

The dragon huffed, crossing his arms as he turned his snout up. "I haven't been that bad, guys..."

"Oh, really?" both Trixie and Fu combined, to which Jake cringed. "Remember when you came crawling –_ literally – _into the shop after the breakup?" Fu's eyes rolled skyward as he recalled the memory.

_**`~*~'**_

_The handle jiggled repetitively, the squeaking noise of twisting metal sounding through the front office of the electronic shop before the door finally came swinging open, the teenage boy losing his source of balance and falling flat on his stomach and face. Lao Shi flinched in shock, managing to swat his cup of tea and sending the liquid spilling over his set of documents sprawled out before him among his desk. His face contorted in worry for his grandson. Was he injured? With nimble speed despite his growing age, the elder jumped off the stool and rushed to Jake's side._

"_Jake!" he cried. "Jake, what happened?!"_

_Fu emerged from the back room, having heard the sudden raucous and deciding to come and investigate the commotion for himself. The canine watched as the boy dragged his body along the floor, using his legs and arms to propel him toward the couch. "My life is ruined!" Jake drawled miserably, hauling himself up onto the worn furniture before plowing his head into the cushions. "Ruined, ruined, ruined...!"_

_Lao Shi sighed in relief. His pupil did not seem to exhibit any signs of injury, but something else seemed to be entirely wrong. Folding his hands into his robes, he strode over to the couch. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked in response to Jake's muffled complaints._

"_She left me, left me for nothing, left me to die...!"_

_Trotting across the room, the wrinkled Shar-Pei came to stand beside Lao Shi, exchanging a curious glance with the man. His gaze flickered back to the kid collapsed into a useless, broken form. "Eh?" his brow knitted in concentration, trying to deduce just what it was that Jake was referring to. "Who are you talking about?...Rose?" he added lastly, hesitantly._

_But shouldn't it be obvious? Who else could he possibly mean? Moving forward, Fu placed a paw on Jake's shoulder, trying to press further for a clear answer. "Do you mean Ros-"_

"_DON'T say that name!" he shot up abruptly, anger pulsing through his words and bodily actions, his fists clenching as he hissed. Fu tripped back, withdrawing his paw as if he had been burned, expression glazed over in stunned shock. Jake glared defiantly at the duo before swaying, resuming his previous position and burying his face away from the world. The cruel, cruel world._

_The dog remained fallen on his rump, succumbing to silence as his companion shared his reaction._

**_`~*~'_**

Fu shivered as he rolled up the paper. "I swear, there is no species more dangerous than a teenager..."

Trixie pinned Jake with a calculating stare, yet Spud appeared somewhat sympathetic. The dragon easily avoided eye contact, but there was no way he could ignore or control their topic of speech. He hugged his arms close to his torso, back slouching as he simmered in annoyance.

"Hmm, well, you should have seen little lover boy in class today..."

_**`~*~'**_

"_Alright, kids, pencils down and eyes up," the female teacher, Mrs. Redfield, ordered with a clap. The students obeyed, writing utensils sounding as they were slapped down to the desks before the papers were pushed away and heads turned up to their authoritative leader. All but one had apparently not heeded her words, hand still working over the parchment in a matter of furious scribbling._

"_Um, Jake," Trixie whispered, nudging him in the side. "Time's up now."_

_He payed no mind to her warning, continuing to scrawl down something that his arm and looming hair was doing a good job of covering up. She noticed that his mouth was forming inaudible words, supposedly speaking silently of what he was putting into context. His face would occasionally scrunch up into a scowl._

"_Jake?" Trixie tried again, but to no avail. Either he was blocking her out, or he was too involved in what he was currently doing to even notice her attempting to grab his attention. "Jake...!"_

"_Mr. Long? Ms. Carter?" Redfield began, glasses sliding over the bridge of her nose as she peered at the two over her spectacles. "Is there a problem?"_

"_Uh..." Trixie hesitated, leaning away from Jake and drumming her fingers against the desk, gaze nervously switching to her friend. He didn't even make any indication of awareness after being called out. The teacher began to make her way toward Jake, while Spud and Trixie looked between one another with unease. She stopped, standing before the unfocused young man and crossing her arms._

"_Mr. Long?" she repeated, voice hard. She tapped her foot impatiently, awaiting an answer that obviously was not going to come. "Look at me when I regard you, boy."_

_He made no motion to incline his head, only resuming in keeping to himself. With an indignant grunt, Redfield snatched the paper from him, which finally did the trick in reeling him back to the present. "Huh? What? No, hey, give that back!"_

"_And just what could be so important for you to so blatantly disrespect me?" Redfield demanded, holding the paper out of his reach that he tried to retrieve from her grasp. She backpedaled, readjusting her glasses as she cleared her throat, bringing the paper within her vision. "Perhaps we should give this a read-over...?"_

"_Y-you can't!" Jake countered weakly, feet still at the ready to leap for what contained all his thoughts and emotions._

_For all of the class to hear just what his heart and soul had poured into a literary mess would be simply...embarrassing. He desperately hoped that the teacher would give it back and only ask that he begin to pay attention. He would be more than happy to oblige now that the ticket to his humiliation was within her hold._

"_Life was great..."_

_Jake groaned, slumping down into his seat as he plastered his hands to his face, hiding himself from the view of fellow classmates who were surely watching him now._

"_I had the most amazing girl in the world; how could it get any better? You were everything to me. Every moment near you was never taken into regret. I wanted to spend every minute of my life with you! But how can I do that when you're gone?"_

_Several began to snicker as the teacher gave a dramatic pause, and Jake only sunk deeper into his seat. Trixie pulled the hood of her jacket over her head, feeling humiliated for her love-sick friend. Spud was in a daze, blinking slowly as he listened with apparent dulled senses._

"_When you originally made me happy, now just the mere thought of you makes me feel sick and alone. How could you leave, wanting nothing more to do with me? I was more than willing to give it all away for you. Two years going strong together, and I was so excited for our anniversary dinner. I had so much planned, so much to share with you, only for it all to be...crushed. Just crushed. You left me confused and hurt, not knowing where you could be or how you are. How could you, Rose? We..."_

_The letter seemed to stop there, as the teacher had nothing more to add. Supposedly, this is where she forced the paper away from him before he could finish writing out what he needed to vent. Brow raised, she lowered what was assigned to be a pop quiz, which quite obviously was ignored by the boy. "Rose? As in, Rose Hunter?"_

_Jake's hands dropped, arms dangling at his sides. He kept his head lowered, mumbling incoherently._

"_You're writing to someone who isn't even here anymore? You're writing to someone that you don't even know the whereabouts of?"_

_He merely shrugged._

_Blowing out a long breath, Redfield shuffled to the front of the room toward her desk, where she tore a slip of paper from a booklet and began filling out the application. Leaving the distressed note at her private box for future disposal, she made her way back to Jake and flashed the paper in his face. He slightly lifted his head, eyes scanning the item hovering before him. "Detention?" he guessed, voice raspy._

"_No, actually, I'm sending you to your councilor," she corrected. "I think you have some problems to sort out and a deranged conscious to clear..."_

_Jake swatted the paper out of her hand, his fist closing around it and crumpling the parchment within his palm. Standing up, he trudged away, avoiding the taunting stares of those around him and ignoring his two friends who also could only watch in reserved silence._

**_`~*~'_**

"Seriously?" Fu laughed.

Jake grunted, peeking out from beneath his wings that had long since moved up to cover his face. "It's not funny..."

"But it is!" Fu countered, jumping off of his seat to stand beside the dragon, reaching up to tousle his messy black-and-green mane with giddy pleasure. Jake growled, batting the dog away and ducking back into his own personal space, where he was away from prying contact. "That almost beats when you couldn't take out that bad guy because you were so loony, a-goo-goo...!"

_**`~*~'**_

"_Help! Help!"_

_Lao Shi had just entered the hidden magical realm of the Magus Bazaar, accompanied by Fu Dog and Jake. While aiming to attend to some personal errands on this trip, there was no way to pass over a call for help. The former Chinese Dragon swerved, descending toward the small distressed voice. He landed smoothly upon the cobblestone street, leaning down so as his passenger could hop off of his back. He didn't happen to notice that his young apprentice had strayed, for whatever reason._

"_Are you all right?" he questioned the little witch, who didn't stand more than a foot from the ground. Her small body and height was rivaled by her broom, which floated at her side. "What is the problem?"_

"_A horrible giant came stomping through my shop!" she screeched, grabbing her pointy hat from atop her head and holding it close to her chest. "I've lost all my merchandise – potions hundreds of years aged, even! - and worse, it continued through the plaza..."_

"_We're your people," Fu addressed the dwarfish witch with a flabby smile. "Just leave it to us!"_

_Lao Shi's thick neck swung around, trying to decipher evidence of the gigantic beast that was smashing around. There was definitely signs of a disturbance; parts of the road were caved in due to massive footfalls, and many bricks upon buildings were crumbling, supposedly from the giant's thrashing arms. Small mobile carts were broken and damned into piles of rubble. "Have you any idea which way it went?" he asked, looking back down at the witch._

"_Th-that way," she pointed shakily, opposite direction from where they had come. _

_It was while he was observing the area around him that Lao Shi finally noticed the boy missing. "Jake?" he blinked in confusion, scratching his white mane. He heaved a heavy groan. He knew that his grandson was currently going through a tough time, but it was no excuse for him to abandon his duties. "Where -"_

_He was cut off as the ground beneath them suddenly rumbled, a loud roar not too far off. Ears perked, Lao Shi spun around to witness the giant come stomping into view. Arm lashing out, the magical creature punched at a building, roof caving in and foundation rattling._

"_Aiyah!" Lao Shi cringed. The witch scrambled to hide behind the dragon, cowering at the sight of the monster._

"_Hey, there's the kid!" Fu cried, gesturing off the street to a red dragon sitting upon the stone, back hunched over. The dog rushed over to his side. "Hey! Are you even hearing this? There's a – hey, Jake!" he snapped his fingers in front of Jake's eyes when realizing that the adolescent was not even registering his presence. "Can you hear me? Jake?"_

_It was then that he finally glanced down, catching the movement of Jake's arm as his talon scratched through the gravel. "Uh..."_

"_Jake!" his grandfather exclaimed. "We must fight off this giant together! Jake?!"_

_Impatience growing, the elder glided toward Jake, only to stop once he saw what was being written in the dirt. The letters J and R were squished together, which was quickly known to be the initials for the name of Jake and Rose. A heart was drawn around the individual letters, swallowing them into the curved belly of the drawing. The American Dragon continued to slash through the heart, adding the details of an arrow. Barely feeling the shadow that loomed over him, Jake turned up to face Lao Shi. "Too much?" he guessed, expression blank and hollow. Fu backed away, feeling a tightness develop in his throat, and he quickly swallowed it down._

_Lao Shi's cheeks puffed, the majestic blue scales quickly turning to red from the heat that gathered from his rage. Through the dimmed streets, dangerous Cantonese rants echoed, holding enough power to make even the enemy come to a stand-still._

**_`~*~'_**

Jake heaved a sigh, wings drooping as his features sagged in distraught. "Alright. Point taken."

Perhaps he was being a bit too extreme. Rose was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. It would do no good to obsess over something that he couldn't control. It was making him miserable, and his actions were having affects and consequences to those around him. It had to come to a stop. But then again, that was easier said than done. To become so connected to someone...only for them to just disappear? To never see something you depended on so much? It hurt – physically, mentally, and emotionally. And to cope, Jake couldn't refrain his mind from wandering into places that reminded him of Rose. Every waking second was devoted to her, just to get him by. And what a mistake this was becoming, as his time was invested in something that was not there when it should be directed toward the things that were there and happening now. His family, his friends, his education, his duties...

Before his grandfather had pulled him back into the real world, he was daydreaming about the moment with Rose when they first became a couple. It was a perfect day. His mind often went back to that place, that happy place, where everything was right and just so much better. In detail, he remembered that first kiss which filled him with so much energy, only for that to die out and leave him drained and depressed when torn away from those thoughts.

Going on like this was not healthy, he decided. It wasn't necessarily bad to think about her, just there was a line between thinking and overly obsessing.

He had to let her go.

"I'm sorry," Jake frowned. "Sorry to all of you. I've just..."

"Hey, baby, no need to apologize," Trixie grinned, coming to sit by Jake and patting him earnestly on the back. "We're your friends! We know your handling a lot, but just know that we're always here to stand next to you!"

"Yeah, buddy," Spud took to sit at Jake's other side, slinging an arm around his broad shoulders. "Friends for life and friends for real!"

Jake beamed, arms wrapping around their abdomens and tugging them close. "Thanks, guys."

As Fu assigned himself to his previous position, plopping down on the chair and stretching out, he offered Jake a curious look. "So, I'm just gonna assume that you didn't hear anything that the old man had to say while you were in foo-foo land?"

Guilt was prominent on the young dragon's face as he turned to his grandfather, who seemed to be quietly processing everything around him in a meditative stance, eyes closed and legs crossed. "Um...no."

"What he was _saying_ is that there have been new leads discovered on that group murder from the news..."

"For real?" Jake gasped, feeling a mix of anxiety and fear. Anything related to the crime was nothing but bad news, so he wasn't sure if he should be expecting anything good or extremely worse. Every last detail from the scene was gruesome, and to be honest, Jake felt that the media was just as much a hassle as anything, what with all the prying questions to those who were suffering from losses just to get a good scoop. But what was the off-chance that maybe they were finally getting something hopeful from all of this mess? Eventually, the culprit would be identified and found. He had to be, for the sake of the grieving and the wounded. "What is it?"

The elder man drew in a deep breath. "It's quite troubling," he spoke for the first time since the conversation between the other four, his voice holding a grim tone. "Unfortunately, there has been no success in finding anything about the horrible man that has committed this felony, but at the very least, detectives have been able to connect something...something, that just might be enough to help..."

Jake blinked, absorbing all of this information with heightened attention. He flicked an irritated gaze at Spud, who sipped at the remnants of his soda to the very last dying drops. He suckled harshly, the whistling sound through the straw and the gurgling intruding loudly. He glanced around, noticing that Jake and Trixie were glaring. His lips left the straw, pulling into a sheepish smile. "Oh...uh...sorry," he apologized, setting the empty can down beside him.

"Remember the incident from years ago that they mentioned, being that there were some eery similarities?" Fu asked. After earning a nod from Jake, he proceeded: "Well, turns out, the two cases are actually _linked. _Further evidence found and analyzed at the therapist's office lead to a discovery of an identification tag, which supposedly should belong to the assaulter, right?

"Well, they ran a scan over the name, and this is where it gets creepy. Turns out the name belonged to a wizard who is long deceased, having been murdered years ago..."

Jake's mind clicked. "...As in, he was the victim of the past crime?"

"Bingo."

A tingle brushed over Jake's scales, causing him to shiver. That _was _creepy. Both his friends reacted the same, shaking for a split second under his arms. They were as engrossed in the tale as he was.

"So, likely story is that both murders were a result from the same person; seems he killed the poor wizard, and then went about masquerading as the guy. This suspect may not even be a wizard. Could just be that he nabbed this guy's wand just to play and get away with the part." Fu sighed as he rubbed his pudgy face, the folds of fur scrunching under his paws. "Question now is, why?"

"Indeed," Lao Shi agreed. "Finding this man remains our top priority. It is now more urgent than ever to find him before he acts once again..."

Jake's head fell, staring at his claws. His useless claws. He felt that much of this rested on his own shoulders. It was expected of him to seek out evil and put an end to it, yet here he had been sitting around, moping and weeping over something that was no longer present. How foolish could he be? Magical creatures were counting on him to take his role as a protector and find this monster. Find him, before more hurt was caused and more lives were lost. And that he would put all of his energy into, wholeheartedly.

But, that would have to wait.

His keen ears perked, sensing the impending danger. The shrill cry was distant, not known by his human friends or Fu, but it was surely there, loud and ringing in his sensitive hearing. His head jerked to Lao Shi, expecting that he too could hear it, though he showed no signs of it. Perhaps his aged senses were losing their potency.

"Gramps," Jake started, voice a serious whisper. "I think we got problems."

* * *

_Central Park,  
__New York City,  
__4:40 P.M._

"Is everything ready?"

Huntsgirl was on edge. The weekend had come and gone much more quicker than she would have personally liked, and now here she was, setting up an attack that was relying so much on success. She was nervous, but not for the wrong reasons. She was well ready to put forth the final stretch in eliminating the American Dragon, but she just wasn't sure if the capture would go as planned. So many attempts from the past were swimming through her mind, and he was certainly no pushover. Not to mention the fact that he would most likely be accompanied by his own master. This complicated efforts completely. They would have to hold off the veteran dragon while trying to coax the prime target into their awaiting hands. Could she also mention her enemy's innate ability to escape almost any inconceivable predicament?

The Huntsman looked up from the staff that he was calibrating, watching her closely. "You're nervous," he picked out with ease. Having worked with slayers for decades, he knew uncertainty when he saw it in bodily actions. Hiding it only confirmed his suspicions. She was trying so hard to conceal it, acting cool and controlled, that she was immediately coming off as different. "You shouldn't be. This is all arranged to perfection."

She bit her lip, thankful that the action was covered by her mask.

"But, I'm afraid I should be asking you if we are prepared," he said. "Is the trap ready, beneath the scattered leaves?"

"Yes, Master," Huntsgirl nodded.

"Good," the Huntsman crossed his arms, leaning back against a tree. "If lucky, there's been a tip sent out to acquire the dragon's attention. He'll come racing right into his demise without knowing any better of it..."

He trailed off, holding a hand up to order silence. The hairs on his neck bristled at the presence of another nearby. A bush rustled, and a heavy snort followed. Weapon in disposal, the Huntsman gripped it tightly as he slowly turned, intending to investigate and engage if necessary. He was caught by a magnificent sight; a horse, or rather the _unicorn_ given the sharpened horn at the tip of the forehead, enveloped in a surreal pearl glow. The white coat was flawless, the equally pale mane and tail flowing in the wind. A menacing grin grew beneath the skull helm. Extra profit? It was no waste at all to haul in extra value.

He motioned for his apprentice to lower down and keep out of sight as he knelt behind the tree where he stood. The mythical creature didn't seem to acknowledge his whereabouts, going about to graze in contentment. The unicorn chewed, the noise obnoxious yet great for masking the scrunch of dying grass beneath the Huntsman's feet as he steadily moved closer while crouched. He moved around to the back of the unsuspecting beast, clutching and easing tension on the staff in anticipation.

One quick shot to the left hind leg, and the unicorn reacted. The Huntsman leaped into the air to avoid the bucking legs, aiming his staff downward for a clean swipe as he came rushing from the air, cape rippling behind him.

Huntsgirl actually cringed. The pained shriek was terrible, enough for her to clasp her hands to the side of her head to block out the sound that was grating on her ears. Birds squawked, fleeing from their nests as they disappeared over the canopy of the forest and into the sky. And then, all was silent. She cautiously peeked around the side of the bush, finding her Master towering over the now lifeless form of the unicorn. Mouth agape, she shot up from the ground, staring wide-eyed at the scene. A one-hit kill; something she had yet to accomplish despite her deadly characteristics.

"Well," the Huntsman exhaled, examining his prize. "That didn't really do any good in passing time, but I'm not one to complain over a bit of sport."

Huntsgirl was busily brushing off the bits of grass that clung to her uniform when she stiffened. A distant flapping was nearing, and no way could something that sounded that big be a measly bird.

"Dragons," she whispered, eyes darting around.

The two separated, diving for shelter that could shield them from view.

"Look, down there!" came a familiar voice from above, and within seconds, where the two hunters had previously been stationed was now occupied by dragons. Their prey. The American Dragon cringed at the gory details of the unicorn. The back was split into a gaping wound where the weapon had struck, fresh blood still oozing out onto the ground. "I knew I had heard something. We're too late..."

"Those responsible must still be around," Lao Shi determined. "Search for clues."

"Those?" Jake asked, happily abandoning the deceased carcass and approaching his grandfather. "Don't you mean the Huntsclan? This totally looks like their dirty work."

"That, we do not know of until we have evidence," Lao Shi argued. "It could have been a natural predator."

"I doubt it..." Jake muttered as he obeyed his given command, looking around for anything significant. There was no real sign of a struggle. Whatever had performed the slaying was quick and experienced. Returning to the corpse, Jake's eyes narrowed as he studied it closely, fighting the urge to vomit at the repulsive smell and scene. For as large as the wound was, the possible creature would have to be of a size just as or bigger than the unicorn. If that were the case, then it wouldn't have been able to get too far without being detected. The area around them was clear upon aerial observation. That could mean the attacker remained near, possibly hiding...

Wait.

Jake leaned closer, finding an interesting contrast of color that mixed with the crimson blood. It was...green? The bright neon was bubbling, and with a sudden gasp, he realized that the blood was actually _simmering. _Evaporating, boiling away into nothing...

The green stuff? Acting as a waste chemical?

Plasma.

That could only mean...

"_Aghh!"_

Jake jumped at the scream, almost positive that he had jumped right out of his scales, which buzzed with a crawling sensation. He inhaled deeply in an effort to calm himself as he turned tail and ran, alert for any danger that could spring out at him. He found his grandfather, safe and sound, rushing into the fray just as he was. They came upon a large net suspended in the air by a tree branch, leaves clinging to the scratchy rope. Within it was a flailing dog.

"Fu?" Jake breathed, stopping beneath the net as he looked up.

"Wowzer!" the Shar-Pei sang. "I was sniffing around that pile of leaves when, _whoosh, _I was suddenly being dragged into the air! Phew, what a heart attack, a-goo..."

Jake's heart thrummed in his throat. His instincts were going haywire, telling him that the first logical thing to do was to _get out of there._

Gliding upward, he intended to cut the net and set the dog free, though was met with quite a surprise when his claws touched the rope. A static shock surged over the material, zapping him with a strong sting at the contact. Jake hissed in pain, gripping his wrist as he faltered slightly. The throb was akin to the feel of a burn, his sensitive flesh pulsing.

Sphinx hair. Damn it.

That meant that neither his grandfather nor himself could release Fu. The good news, thankfully, was that the substance could not harm him.

_This definitely has Huntsclan written all over it..._

Jake swung around midair, imagining that at any second, he would be thwarted by a Clan member. And not just any member, but his notorious enemy, who was probably bent on revenge over his latest victory that left her utterly defeated. His ears tickled at the rushing noise of an incoming weapon, and in a rapid side-turn, he narrowly avoided being skinned by an arrow. It managed to slice through the rope and Fu went tumbling to the ground, tangled in the mess of the thick net. Stunned, Jake heaved in a terrified breath as he turned just in time to receive a wicked kick to his face, throwing him back against an enormous pine tree. He slid down the trunk and to the ground, slumping at the feet of the Huntsgirl.

"Gotcha, Dragon Boy," she smirked, staff centered right above his throat.

He gulped, gaze turning to his grandfather who took a defensive stance. Lao Shi looked between Huntsgirl and from the direction which the attack came, where the Huntsman came slinking out of hiding, bow in-hand and arrows secured at his back.

"Well, while it would have been nice if the net had snagged the intended target," the Huntsman began, staring pointedly at Fu. "It's no matter. I'll still have what I want."

Lao Shi bared his teeth. "So, you lured us here?"

"Very clever." the Huntsman mocked, twirling his bow to form into his staff before charging at the elder dragon. The two grappled and locked into a fierce brawl, leaving the two young fighters to fend for themselves.

"Is this it, then?" Huntsgirl wondered, striking blue eyes creasing in disappointment. "After all the trouble you've ever given me, and I have you down in one move?"

"Oh, we're just getting started." Jake promised. He shifted his back against the tree, lifting his leg and thrusting it out to kick her away, but to his surprise she caught his ankle. He struggled, trying to wrangle it free from her hold, before growling in annoyance and swiping his tail in attempt to trip her. Her foot stomped down on the appendage.

"Well," Jake gulped down the pained cry that he didn't allow to pass through his lips. "This is awkward."

His current position was proving it hard to make the escape he needed to get back on his feet. She was suddenly lurching forward, elbow locking his neck against the tree. He choked back a gag, eyes bulging in fear as her face pressed close to his own. Her light and joking demeanor that had been present just only moments ago had transformed into a deadly and menacing force.

"Listen up, you filthy brute," she seethed, voice low and incredibly intimidating. "You've gone on for long enough. You've hurt me for the very last time, and now, I'm getting you back for _everything_ you've ever done to me."

She pressed her elbow further into his neck.

"You're _finished._"

Jake grit his teeth as his claws came up to grasp her arm. She was crushing his throat, leaving him struggling for breath and no way to summon his fire. His eyes were beginning to glaze over with a sheen of tears due to lack of oxygen. It was maddening. While he knew that his foe was not one to underestimate by her petite size and young age, for surely she could put grown men to shame, this was just ridiculous. He was a _dragon. _It was no matter that he had the intellect of a human or how he perceived the race (he was born, raised, and apart of it, after all); the side of him that belonged to pure animal instincts was telling him that to be over-powered by a simple mortal was absolutely degrading.

Puffing his cheeks, he breathed through his nose with a strong snort. Black smoke spewed into the girl's face, causing her to stumble back and rub furiously at her now burning eyes. Limbs now free, Jake flapped his wings and sent forth a powerful gust that knocked her back onto her rear, allowing him the opportunity to streak into the sky. He hovered above, pressing a claw to his chest as he took a moment to steady his breathing before grinning in delight, crossing his arms and raising a taunting brow.

"You almost sounded convincing," he said.

Huntsgirl coughed roughly, the taste of the smoke lingering in her nose and filling her mouth. She shot daggers at the floating dragon, blinking away the heavy film of tears from her eyes.

"I'll show you convincing..." she growled threateningly. Her hand tucked behind her back, digging into her utility belt before she swung her arm out, a long chain link extending from the wooden handle grasped tightly within her fingers and palm. This caught Jake off-guard, the string of metal wrapping around his body several times. His wings were strapped to his sides, hindering his ability to remain airborne and thus leading to his fall to the ground. He crashed with a thud upon his stomach, the hit jarring his head. His amber orbs spun around in their sockets, dizzied and disoriented.

"How's that, Dragon Boy?" she smirked, placing her hands on her hips and striking a pose that emphasized her triumphant glory.

Jake blinked up at her, jaw becoming slack at what he was seeing through his swimming vision: four Huntsgirls, each one mirroring the other. No, that couldn't be right. One was enough. He didn't need three more with amplified hatred for him. Closing his eyes, he shook his head before popping a hopeful eye open. The one and only Huntsgirl remained.

Sucking in a breath of relief, Jake flicked his tongue out at her, producing an equally immature crude noise. And with that, he urged the left of his body to initiate a rolling sequence, building momentum as he began to flee in a very strange fashion away from his enemy.

As Fu finally surfaced from the confines of the net, he noticed Jake roll right past him. "Woo!" he cheered, launching his arms into the air. "You're on a roll, kid! Ah, yeah, I got a million of 'em..." he murmured the last part, wiping a humorous tear away from his eye.

"Hey!" Huntsgirl called in surprise, finally kicking her legs into gear. "Come back here!"

Fu watched the comical display, ready to take chase and provide assistance if Jake so needed it, but was prevented from taking any steps further when his attention was suddenly placed on the nearing fight between Lao Shi and the Huntsman. One would swing, the other would dodge, and the cycle was repeated. The Huntsman, however, managed a lucky punch to the elder's stomach, the force launching him back toward Fu. He barely had the time to duck down and avoid a nasty collision, gaze sweeping upward as he witnessed Lao sail over him. He flinched at the awful noise of scales meeting bark, whipping around to see the dragon plastered at the foot of a tree. He gulped back a yelp of surprise as the Huntsman swept above him, staff aimed for the beast's heart. Lao side-rolled, using his claws for leverage to hoist him up off the ground and flipping into the air, where he righted himself and proceeded to land neatly on his feet. He saw that the staff was lodged into the tree, and the Huntsman was busying himself in furiously trying to pry it out. Recognizing his opportunity, Lao Shi lunged, claws outstretched. He did not have the time to process the quick maneuver in which the Huntsman pulled the weapon free, having no chance in escaping his sudden fate.

It happened so fast.

Lao Shi fell to his knees, clutching the severely bleeding wound with his head bowed. Fu was frozen in horror, mouth agape. His brain and limbs failed to communicate; the former screaming for him to do something, yet the latter unable to make movement. He could only face the results in a dumbfounded state.

"What a pity," the Huntsman feigned concern, looming over his wounded enemy. "It seems your old age has betrayed you..."

Lao raised his head, eyes narrowing in retort rather than exchanging his own set of words. The Huntsman grunted, planting a kick to Lao's torso and throwing him back. Fu jumped, emerging from his paralyzed shock when the body came to rest beside him. He reacted immediately, paws grasping either side of his face.

"You all right, old man?" he asked in a panicked rush. "Lao Shi?"

He noticed that the dragon was grimacing in discomfort, slight tremors beginning to wrack through his frame. Fu pulled the arms that were draped around his chest away from the injury, almost heaving at the gruesome sight. A large gash extended from his right shoulder blade and swept down diagonally to just above his abdomen, blood continuing to push out of the ripped flesh. His entire upper body was covered in the sticky fluid, and it dripped in sickly trails down his stomach and sides to the grass, where Fu realized with a slap that they were atop the sphinx hair net. That explained Lao's case of the shivers and near unresponsive behavior, though a good amount of his unconscious body language could be admitted to the blood loss. It was with fervent action that Fu tried to pull the net out from beneath Lao Shi, only to be interrupted when an incoming shadow brought him to an abrupt halt. His blood ran cold at the masked face he met.

"Finally," the Huntsman sneered, staff trained on the two. "After all of these years, you shall finally be slain at my hands..."

Fu glowered at the man, stepping protectively in front of Lao Shi as he bared his fangs. A fierce growl bubbled up from his throat.

"Oh, please..." the Huntsman raised his staff to swat the dog out of his way, only to stop as something bumped into the back of his legs. He staggered forward slightly, nearing tripping and falling forward, though he managed to catch himself before performing such a humiliating act. He turned back, finding the American Dragon staring back up at him from below. He followed the trail of the chains that apparently unraveled due to his rolling around. Huntsgirl was not far off, also following the length of metal to her foe's position.

"You're cornered, dragon," she said. "Just give in."

"What if I don't want to?" Jake countered.

He parried the Huntsman's kick with his arm, swiping his tail out to trip him while temporarily unstable. He jumped, and Jake echoed his motion. He pushed off the ground with his legs, flipping in the air to regain a solid stance once hitting the ground once again. Faced by the Huntsman and backed by the Huntsgirl, Jake was trapped. With a smirk, he dodged and whirled, skillfully keeping match with his opponents. He ducked a swing from the Huntsman while aiming a foot of fire at the Huntsgirl. The crackling element whizzed past her in a blinding glow of orange, and she retaliated with a surprise knife. The brawl went about in a circle, the three dishing out attacks that never hit a target. Jake was able to disarm the duo, putting them at even odds with only hand-to-hand combat. He caught the girl off-guard with a bat of his wing, knocking her out of the fray and down onto her back. Being only feet away from the currently disabled Lao Shi, she watched as the magical dog tugged the net out from under the battered creature. Her gaze flickered back to the dueling American Dragon and her Master for a split second before an idea came to her.

Fu scurried back as the girl approached, cowering away from her as she snagged the net away from him. Drawing her arms back, she grunted as she hefted it at Jake. It grabbed hold of him from behind, tangling him within the rope as he staggered and met the earth. The effects were instantaneous. His vision blurred and his strength was sapped away, his thrashing easing up and movements becoming sluggish.

"Jake!" Fu cried.

Lao Shi carefully sat up, ignoring the pain that erupted through his body.

"Well done, Huntsgirl," the Huntsman commended her. "I'd say this was a near flawless step of our plan..."

Once alert to the fact that his grandson was in trouble, Lao urged himself to stand. Black spots dotted the corners of his vision, and he was almost scared that he couldn't _feel_ himself. Every part of him, to his toes to the very tip of his ears, were numb.

"Jake, no...!"

He ran forward, or at least thought he was – he could feel nothing solid beneath his steps. It was like walking through nothing at all. He was too far away, and in a desperate attempt to reach Jake, he reached out. He was too slow. With a tap to the ground of the Huntsman's staff, a green orb surrounded the three, and in a flash, they disappeared.

Lao stumbled, losing his balance and tripping forward. On his knees, one arm supported his slumping weight while the other was pressed to his wound. He closed his eyes tightly, the physical pain only but a dull comparison to the emotional pain that was reminding him that he had failed.

He _failed._

Jake was gone.


	5. Unsettling

_**-Unsettling-**_

_Canal Street Electronics,  
__New York City,  
__October 14th,  
__Tuesday, 8:31 A.M._

"Not my baby boy...!"

Lao Shi groaned inwardly, leaning over his desk as he massaged his temples in an effort to relieve the migraine that was gradually building up. It had been a rough night. Fu and himself had returned to the shop only long enough to stitch and wrap up his gaping wound before taking off into the depths of the city, searching for any sign or clue that could lead them to the kidnapped young dragon. Their attempts might as well have been called out as useless, seeing as how they had no idea where to even start. It seemed they always had something to aid them in a similar matter of crisis in the past – such as the goblin who sniffed Jake out with a mere sample, despite the teenager not being his 'exact self' at the time – but then again, that had been the only time the boy was abducted and taken to the enemy's hidden quarters. And where that had once been, they checked over, only to find the building still destroyed beyond repair due to the brawl between hunters and dragons that caused the collapse. There was no potion that could provide any assistance; no magical shortcuts. They were left to search upon only their feet within the broad expanse of the town.

And more so a problem, the Clan was clever. They probably organized their hideout to be in an area where not a single person of even the wisest capabilities would ever think to look.

Eventually throughout the time taken to investigate what parts of the city they could, the sun began to peek up over the horizon. Not an ounce of sleep had been gained, leaving the two absolutely drained, but rest was the last thing on their minds.

Another concern was Jake's family – namely, his father, Jonathan. With no knowledge of the secret his wife and children harbored, it would prove strange when his son did not return home. Lao had even gone as far as to keep the truth away from Susan at first, explaining over the phone later that evening that Jake was staying with him since it was too late to send him back to his own house. Once assuring – or rather, lying to her that he would see her child off to school on time, he ended the call and continued with his crazed search. At least for right then, it provided as a cover story to keep mostly the ignorant Jonathan at bay. Come morning, where they were still nowhere near close to finding anything, Lao decided to break the news to the unsuspecting mother.

Naturally, she freaked out. Her initial reaction had been why – _why_ would he keep something as crucial as her little baby being stolen away a secret from her? She had gone to bed the night before content with the fact that her son was safe and sound, except that he _wasn't._ Lao pleaded for her to understand. He really and truly had her best interest at heart. He explained that he didn't want to cause any worry or panic if there was anything more he could do in the meantime. Through the dreadful hours of wandering through the night, he fully intended on finding and saving Jake, bringing him home and perfectly happy to just go about as if the event had not happened. Unfortunately, reality wasn't going to work like that. This was a very real situation that was out of his hands, and it was with no other choice that he regrettably had to inform Susan of the incident, despite not wanting to be the one to do so.

Glancing down at his bandaged chest, he frowned. How different would things have played out had he not been injured? He could have helped Jake. He constantly berated himself for being so foolish since witnessing his grandson disappear before his very eyes. He should have known better than to act so hastily in battle. Maybe they wouldn't be in the predicament that they were now. However, there was no use in fretting over what could have been. What mattered now is that it did come to be, and now all for him to focus on was finding a way to get Jake back.

He just felt so helpless.

Having been back at the shop for a good hour now, Susan had stopped by. She already went ahead and notified the school that Jake would be out for the day, though she failed to specify a reason. As long as it refrained the attendance office from contacting home or Jonathan's cell in a mission to ask of Jake's whereabouts, then for now, it was all fine.

"What do we do?" she continued to weep hysterically from her place on the couch in the back room. Fu was right beside her, drowning in his own sorrow. "We...we have to do something! We have to find him! _Oh,_ what if we don't find him?! He could be hurt! What if he's _dead_ and we don't know it? We -"

"Calm down, my daughter," Lao pressed, motioning with his hands for her to slow down and take in a much needed breath. "We will find him. I promise. He'll be okay..."

He almost felt as if he were trying to reassure his own self. The sliver of calm veneer only slightly floated atop his wavering tone.

"Right..." Susan slowly shook her head, wiping away the tears that trailed down her cheeks and dotted the corners of her eyes. She placed her hands onto her knees as she exhaled sharply, trying her best to steady her shaking heart. "You're right. I mean, he'll make it back, right? He has to..." her voice slipped into a whisper, her gaze locked on the floor as she murmured more to herself than to anyone else. "He has to..."

Lao's face crumpled. This was such unimaginable turmoil for a mother to have to go through, but it was surely a pain that he was experiencing just as much of. Both were severely missing a family member whom they treasured dearly. Merely thinking about the possibility that Jake could be hurt yet knowing full well that he was in danger was forming unease in the pit of his stomach. It was near sickening to think about him being walled up someplace unknown while they just stood around, not sure of how to next proceed. But, regardless, they had to be strong and keep faith. For Jake's sake, and for their own sanity as well.

"It could take some time to find him," Lao said. "As hard as that is to accept, we need to be prepared for the long-term period..."

"What am I supposed to tell Jonathan?" Susan inquired with a sniffle. "I can't just say he's been kidnapped. How do I explain his absence without him getting suspicious?"

Oh, how she hated to lie to her husband. It made her feel terrible. It was at times like this when she wondered what it would be like had she just fessed up about everything. Perhaps Jonathan would be cooperative, understanding, and there would not be the stress of making up stories whenever disaster did happen to strike so unexpectedly. But admittedly, even if she were to do such a thing, this wouldn't exactly be under the best circumstances. He might react negatively. He probably would feel deceived that she was worried enough of being rejected that she would keep something as serious as their eldest being missing away from him. But of course, that was all just a theory, but enough of a thought to keep her silent.

Lao stared off into space. This was indeed a complicated problem. They very well couldn't just lie and keep saying that the boy was camping out at his grandfather's. That would tumble down on them in some way, either by Jonathon making a visit one day to find Jake nowhere to be seen or simply because Jonathan would insist that Jake come home at some point. No, they had to come up with a different cover. And a believable one, too. A story that they could add onto and keep in flow with...

"What about the kid being out of town?" Fu suggested, breaking out of his very unusual quiet shell.

"How would that work?" Lao retorted incredulously. He didn't happen to notice that Susan was suddenly contemplating that very idea. "Why would he just leave town without giving word, let alone without permission from his parents? That's -"

"- A great idea!"

Lao cut himself off abruptly, turning a questioning eye to the woman. He was confused at the smile that graced her lips. Even Fu, despite being the one to offer, was taken aback by her exclamation. He wasn't exactly planning on providing the solution with just a mere effort to throw his two cents into the pile.

"Jake can be out on a class field trip. That way it's looked upon as being sponsored and completely safe; Jonathon will have no reason to prod."

"Hmm," her father hummed as he pondered over her words. "I suppose. But, won't it appear strange that the school did not send out any notification?"

"Well..." Susan took but only a moment to mull this over. "As far as Jonathan knows, Jake came directly here after school, which would mean all his work would be here with him. We can say that the field trip was mandatory and that he at least left the information with you to transfer to us. Jon may be a bit skeptical, but...I'm thinking he'll buy into it, as long as we just keep the school from having any way to contact him..."

Lao exchanged a glance with Fu before studying Susan long and hard. It was certainly a big risk to take if anything were to get out of their hands, but for now, it was their best bet.

"...Okay." Lao finally nodded his consent, albeit sounding just slightly uncertain. "We'll run with that. I just pray that we can keep the story rolling to our favor..."

Susan sighed, placing a hand to her forehead. "Me, too..."

Fu fidgeted with his collar, gaze downcast as his face pulled a scowl. "I wonder how the kid is doing right now? Oh, I bet it's just awful!" he wailed in despair. "Who knows what kind of trouble he could be in...!"

* * *

_Unknown Location,  
__New York City,  
__9:00 A.M._

_Snore._

In the corner of a cage, Jake was sprawled out over a measly cushion that served as his current bed, snoring loudly as he slumbered in peace.

Huntsgirl wanted to pull her hair out and just scream; she could kill him right then and there. His snoring was outrageously obnoxious and was grating on her last nerve. She had half a mind to chuck the screwdriver that was in her hand at him to wake the beast up, but then he would start _talking._ And when alone, he would interact with her through suggestive comments and horrible innuendos like he always tended to do. Just goes to show that no matter the species – boys will be boys. She didn't have the tolerance nor the patience for his voice right now, and already just the sounds he made alone were driving the nail deeper. Fortunately for her, the dragon rolled into a position where he was flat on his stomach and his face was pressed into the cushion, which muffled his snorting breaths. _Good. Maybe he will suffocate._

And without even a hint of remorse from her dire thoughts, she went about to continue with setting up the cell that would become her temporary room. At least, during the daylight hours. Thank the heavens that she didn't have to sleep with him. She might just go insane if that were the case. Right now, she was assembling appliances, such as a desk where she could keep files and books. It had been one long morning. Upon rousing from sleep, she immediately began acquiring accessories for the cell that she would need. After all the back and forth trips of retrieving items and carrying them in, she was now in the process of arranging.

Amidst setting up the desk, where she was tightening a bolt with acute concentration, Huntsgirl found herself thinking about Jake. It had been several days since their last encounter, and still to that exact moment where she stood surrounded by concrete walls, her emotions curled when she remembered it. Against her own will, she memorized Jake's face, betrayed and hurt. It was impossible to picture his wonderful smile and soothing laugh when all she saw was the heartbreak she caused. But this was in no way any easier for her. She was forced to deal with the same rejection. When she had ran away from him, she didn't stop and she didn't dare look back. Rose had thrown herself into the backseat of the car, tugging her knees up to her chest and holding herself as she suppressed the tears that her Master couldn't see when he was to drive them back home. She'd hardly had any time to cope with this mess in her own time between all the meetings with the Huntsman, and at the dead of night, she was left robbed of sleep as her guilty thoughts tormented her.

It really was a bittersweet relationship destined to end in the flames of tragedy. It was bitter because it was something that was never meant to happen between the two. Yet, it was sweet, because no matter how forbidden their love had been, Huntsgirl wouldn't have taken it back for anything. She almost wondered if she had been selfish to lead him into something that couldn't last. However, she never really did anticipate falling in love with Jake. They had started out as friends, but then again, isn't that how a relationship always begins? It grew into something deeper with far more meaning than 'just friends'. Their chemistry created a spark that was irresistible. She couldn't have denied his hand even when she knew it was the wrong choice in the long run.

Huntsgirl knew that was the prime source of her guilt: continuing to mold them both together until the point of the inevitable break-up. But, was it so wrong for her to have _enjoyed_ it? She had to remind herself that she wasn't just a normal girl with normal privileges. Boys could never be apart of her life goal in becoming and ruling as future head of the Clan. So, when given the opportunity to experience and indulge in something that girls her age most likely took for granted, she used every moment to her advantage. Huntsgirl had thrived in her time with Jake. She felt blessed to have been able to live that part of her life for just a spell.

No, she wouldn't have changed anything. Now that the outcome wreaked, it may be something that she was taking into question, but looking back: she didn't regret being Jake's girlfriend. She never would.

Leaning up, she wiped her forehead despite not being able to touch the flesh beneath her mask. Finally, she was done. She observed her handiwork with a relieved smile. Reaching for the plastic cup of water perched on a chair, she proceeded to pull the maroon colored mask up just above her mouth before digesting several gulps. The cool liquid burned her dry throat, compelling her to down the remainder of the water before crushing the cup within her grasp and throwing it into trash bin beside the door.

_Now, to stock the desk._ Huntsgirl began taking books and folders, placing them in their designated spots. The books were assigned to the overhead shelf while the folders were to be in separate drawers. She frowned as she worked through the silence. What was Jake doing right then? Of course, she realized that he must be in school. Was he paying attention? Probably not. He always had been a slacker, and science was certainly not his area of strength. She giggled as she imagined him slumped over the group table, head in his hand as he tried to keep himself awake yet failing miserably. She wondered if he was thinking about her as much as she was thinking about him. Was he still devastated? Was he angry at her? Lost? Depressed?

That's not what she wanted. She never wanted things to end so sourly between them. Truth was, she had no idea how her final words to him had affected his attitude. Even that small little mystery boosted her craving in wanting to return to Jake. It would be so amazing. She would turn up when he least expected it, and they could pick up where they had left off. But who was she kidding? Rose was no longer in existence. There was only the Huntsgirl, who was bound to life in an organization that accepted nothing beyond the hunt of magical creatures. Even if in some concept she _was_ able to resume her role as her other half...would Jake want her back? While her conscious immediately answered that he surely would – for why would he want to be further neglected of the happiness they had shared for any longer? – it seemed more rational to believe that he would refuse. Yes, he displayed disappointment when it was revealed that she was leaving, but he seemed more than willing to make things work even at long distance. He didn't want to let her go. Who was to say he would be so forgiving after she had negated his suggestion to keep in contact and confirm that they were to never see each other again?

Huntsgirl groaned as she slammed a drawer shut. It had been nowhere near her intention to be so harsh. She had just been so overwhelmed and was desperate to end things quick and cleanly. Once finished with stocking the desk, she sighed heavily as she trudged over to the chair and picked it up, carrying it over to the desk and scooting it beneath the table.

"He would never come back to me..." she grumbled, unknowingly doing so aloud.

"Who?"

Huntsgirl started with a jump, goosebumps erupting over her skin. She whirled around to face the source of the voice, finding that the dragon was sitting up and watching her with a curious expression. His head was cocked to the side as he blinked.

"He?" Jake repeated, and from there, a smirk stretched over his scaly lips. "Ooh, do you mean your _boyfriend?"_

The young woman gasped – both in reaction to being appalled and realizing that she had spoken over her silent pondering. Wasn't he supposed to be sleeping? He had been driving her up the wall with his snoring only just minutes ago! She must have been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed when he had finally come to out of his exhausted stupor from his prolonged exposure to sphinx hair even after the previous day's battle. Why, that _repulsive_ little brat. How dare he budge into her musings and be so damn smug about it? One hand curled into a fist while the other jabbed an angry finger at her foe. Her mouth was agape, ready to welcome the fury of words that she wanted to unleash on this disgusting creature, however she found that she was too shocked and stumbled over her boiling rage in finding her voice. Thankfully her mask shielded her act in temporarily stalling her comeback.

Jake laughed. "You didn't tell me you had one of those! I mean," he shrugged, waving his claw dismissively as his eyes rolled upward toward the ceiling. "Considering all the times you've flirted with me during a fight, I pretty much thought you were single..."

Okay. That was it.

"You...!" she huffed indignantly, stomping her foot down as her face contorted into an angry scowl. "You're just...I...I can't even...!"

Oh, she wasn't even going to please him with a retort. Grabbing her messenger bag, Huntsgirl slung it over her shoulder, regarding him with intense hatred as she turned for the door.

"So," Jake leaned forward eagerly, clasping his claws together. "You gonna tell me about him?...Ow!"

He rubbed furiously at his head where the screwdriver had clunked his noggin. Satisfied that she had accomplished what she thought about doing from earlier, Huntsgirl shuffled out of the room with her head held high. The huntress failed to acknowledge her Master as he walked in upon her exit. The Huntsman stopped, watching her retreat with mild confusion before looking over at Jake, deducing that he was the cause for her apparent attitude. He chuckled as he approached the cage with hands behind his back.

"Quite a ray of sunshine, isn't she?"

"Oh yeah, clearly," Jake growled, continuing to rub at the sore spot atop his skull.

"Well, I guess I'll just try to keep this formal," the Huntsman spread out his arms, motioning all around him. "This shall serve as your accommodation until you die."

Jake eyed the man with unease before taking in his surroundings. There wasn't much to see. Across from him, pushed up against the side wall, was a simple desk topped with reading material and a personal lamp. A dartboard hung on the wall to his right, and with much disdain, he realized that it was in the form of a dragon and the darts were modeled into little hunting staffs. He shivered, quickly averting his gaze away from the piece. In the bottom right corner of the room was a small cabinet squeezed between the intersecting walls, which served as a platform for a radio.

Jake was hardly impressed. None of this was of any use to him, as he assumed he was forced to stay in the confines of the cage rather than having the option to roam the entirety of the cell with privileges to the many accessories. And there was nothing to admire. The stone walls gave off a cold vibe and there were no windows to allow any trace of sunlight into the dank dungeon. But, if he was correct about having no access out of his cage, then what was the point of all these things being within the room?

Wait.

Was _she_ possibly going to be...?

"During your captivity, the Huntsgirl will be setting up camp here with you throughout most days, which is the cause in play to livening up the appearance," the Huntsman confirmed his theory. He chuckled lightly, though it came out sounding dark and evil despite the light intention of the action. "Seeing as how you two get along on the field, I'm sure you'll manage just fine..."

Jake was almost certain that he detected a hint of sarcasm in the hunter's voice. Funny. He never would have associated any type of humor with such a serious person.

"You may be surprised by our services," the Huntsman continued. "You'll be treated to the essentials: edibles, water, and I know you've already been acquainted with the 'bed' we've gotten for you. However, let it be known, American Dragon, that this is still very well your prison. You are limited to leaving this area and are completely forbidden from stepping out of this building. The only reason for you to experience even the slightest of hospitality is that we must preserve your strength and health for future tests..."

"Tests?" Jake echoed, eyebrows reaching his messy mane of hair. "What kind of tests?"

Growing tired of lingering in one place for too long, the Huntsman approached the wall and casually leaned his weight against it, crossing his arms. Jake's eyes cautiously followed his every movement. "Our main initiative is to conduct study among two major aspects: your mind and body. In doing so, it will be necessary to perform methods of common experiments to learn from your brain as well as your anatomy."

Jake reacted by pulling a face. "So, you're doing the government's dirty work?"

"Not exactly," the Huntsman responded. "I have no need of pursuing their way of learning about you, which would be to strap you to a table and dissect you to examine your insides." Off of the dragon's shiver of disgust, he smiled under the concealing shadow of his skull helm. "I don't need to cut you up and see what's inside of you – I've already seen what's inside a dragon and it isn't pleasant. My means of study are far more...productive..."

"Right..." Jake snorted and frowned. Nothing more was said beyond that, and for a few dragged out seconds, the two stared at one another. Jake eventually looked down, twiddling his talons and sucking on his bottom lip as he tried to endure the awkward silence that now enveloped the room. The tip of his tail flicked against the cold hard ground, his toes wriggling.

He glanced up as the Huntsman blew out a heavy sigh. "Well," he finally spoke, leaning up from the wall as he fixed his sleeve and cape. "I suppose I'm being generous. Your tests will not begin until tomorrow, so you have the remaining precious hours of today to keep to yourself...and enjoy the absence of pain while it's not present..."

The man gave a mirthless chuckle, and with that, he turned on his heel and left the cell. Jake's ears twitched as the steel door shut and clicked. He stayed sitting up, not moving as he let the reality of everything slowly sink in. He groaned, slapping his claws to his face and dragging them down slowly over his eyes and cheeks. He threw his back down on the cushion, staring blankly up at the ceiling, gray and bland.

_Oh, how did I get in this mess – and how do I get out of it?_


	6. Instability

_**-Instability-**_

_Unknown Location,  
__New York City,  
__October 15th,  
__Wednesday, 5:44 A.M._

Jake lay awake in the cage, arms draped over his belly as he stared up at the ceiling. Since he had no way of telling time, he wasn't sure what part of the day it was, but his body was telling him that it was _too early_ for him to be up. However, his mind was telling him differently, as it would not let him seek any more sleep what with all of the many thoughts buzzing around in his head. He couldn't focus on one thing at a time: Where was he, exactly? How could he escape? _Would_ he manage to escape on his own? What kind of tests was he to endure, physical torture and such? Was he going to die in this dungeon?

Too many questions and no answers for them.

Jake heaved out a frustrated breath, watching with dull interest as the puff of fire that escaped his lips swirled atop his nose, temporarily illuminating the pitch black room with a warm orange glow before evaporating into nothing. Spots burned at the corners of his tired eyes, apparently startled by the exposure to a sudden flash of light when his vision was so accustomed to the darkness. He rubbed at his eyes, wanting only to settle back in the depths of the utter blackness, which was certainly strange considering that he had been craving the glow of life at much earlier hours. Since fully aware of his captivity, Jake hardly had any contact with anyone besides the short meetings with the Huntsgirl and the Huntsmaster. Different members did enter the cell periodically, offering no set of words as they simply delivered his lunch and dinner, and of course coming back to retrieve the empty plates/bowls, only to once again leave him to bitter loneliness. Once his dinner plate had been taken from him, the overhead light, although dim and weak, had been flickered off. That had since left him in the unrelenting dark, and at first, it was creepy and unnerving. Jake had felt so lost and unsure. Even something as simple as a source of light helped ease the discomfort due to his situation, and when that was taken from him, he had become restless.

He went as far as to spit a ball of fire into his claws, mimicking the use of a lantern, though what was there to see? What was there to do? He couldn't really move, he couldn't leave. His surroundings were not going to change. Jake decided that the company of light was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment, as the darkness had reminded him just how alone and vulnerable he was. Though, once the fatigue had settled in, he drifted off to sleep and since coming to, he found that his nerves were not so shaken. He rather liked the darkness now, finding it easy to think in and relax to.

And now, here he was in solitude, arms behind his head as he yawned.

Jake's mind wandered, wondering who it was that would be picking him up and proceeding to force him into experimentation and when. He cringed; none of it sounded pleasant, and his guesses didn't help at all with what he was coming up with. While it was assured by the Huntsman that he wouldn't be getting cut up to pieces, there were still other alternatives that could be considered just as gnarly. Breaking him limb-from-limb, bone-by-bone, and perhaps pitting him through unimaginable brawls. Would he be injected with harmful chemicals? Would parts of his body be removed for study? _Ick, ick, and double ick,_ Jake shivered in disgust. The bigger question combating the possibilities of tests was _why_ were they doing this? What was the motive, the reason? It was incredibly puzzling to the young guardian. Maybe if he was careful, he could poke the answers out of the Huntsgirl. They would be spending a lot of time with each other, after all. Or so that was told to be the case.

His brow creased, trying to estimate just how long he would be trapped here. Already, two mornings had passed with him awaking in this cage.

Concern sparked toward his family. What was going on with them? What was the situation that was occurring due to his obvious absence? Surely his mother and grandfather were playing cover-up, but just how far were they going with the lies this time? How would they mask his being missing were it to prolong for a stretched period? What if his father discovered the secret? How would he react? A disturbing ache rumbled in Jake's stomach. He didn't like to think about how his dad might react to such shocking news. And what of the magical world? How were its inhabitants holding up without their protector around to stop the baddies? Of course his grandfather would presumably take over, but Jake's lack of appearance would raise lots of questions and he just wasn't sure if the elderly dragon could handle everything on his own. He desperately hoped that all was well and under control. The last thing he would want is for the foundations of home to crumble and collapse all because he managed to get himself captured.

_Funny that I seem to care more about those problems than myself,_ Jake snorted. Always the hero.

Just as well, he was very worried about his current status. He had too much to live for to die in this cell. The pain, he knew he could endure. There were too many incidents to count where his near death experiences and more extreme encounters resulted in gruesome, sometimes life threatening injuries. Most of his worry was centered on how to get away. Jake wasn't too keen on the idea of escaping without help. Even if he was able to break out of this room, surely what he assumed to be a mass-filled base would notice a dragon slinking through the place. Speaking of 'the place', Jake didn't know where to start on the location. It was possible that he wasn't even in New York, though it seemed more than likely that he was, seeing as how this branch of the Clan worked in the general area of the city. Even then, it could be just as complicated. The hideout could very well be blended in so thoroughly with town that it could be passed as a normal enough building. But it could also be in such a remote location that no one would think to venture to. Perhaps even he was underground? Well, it wasn't anything he could control. With his grandfather still free from the enemy's clutches, he could maybe snoop him out. It was his only hope, for now, and it was a slim one.

Jake's ears perked, his head turning to the door. Someone was coming in. Already? Maybe if he pretended he was asleep...

"Wake up, dragon."

Following the feminine voice he recognized as Huntsgirl was a kick to the metal bars of the cage, which rattled and rung with a metallic strumming noise. Jake grit his teeth, the noise ringing in his sensitive hearing. He opened his eyes to glare at the huntress as he clapped his claws to each side of his head. He couldn't see behind the mask, but he was positive that she was smirking at his discomfort that she caused. And he would be wrong, as she was not feeling any kind of humor at all. Dark circles traced her eyes, a clear indication that she was tired, grouchy, and wanted absolutely nothing to do with her smart-ass subject at all.

"Just words would have been fine," Jake spat as he pushed himself upward to sit. He proceeded to yawn, scratching his back as if he had just woken up from a good night's sleep. If only.

"Shut up and sit still."

He eyed her curiously. "What do you -?"

He was not given the opportunity to realize what was going to happen in the split second that he paused and she reached into her lab coat pocket, her movement quick and fluid. Volts of electricity suddenly coursed through him, immobilizing his voice though Jake wanted to scream and paralyzing his limbs that wanted to convulse. He immediately fell back, robbed of the ability to move. Huntsgirl re-pocketed the taser, not even allowing herself the glory to grin at his pain. Once unlocking the cage, she stepped in and from her messenger bag, she withdrew a harness. Kneeling down, she began to apply the leash to Jake's stiff and unmoving body. He couldn't even glare; his eyebrows were glued frozen, as well.

"As much as I would enjoy seeing this last," Huntsgirl began as she continued to buckle the harness, grunting as she had to flip his body over to his side to strap it over his back, "the effects are very temporary and will not last long. You'll be regaining your senses in a couple of minutes..." Finally, the restraint was secure, and she stood up. Hands to her hips, she looked down upon him. "But until then, I suppose that I can enjoy not hearing you speak."

His irises rolled, watching her walk out and take a seat at her desk. After sipping from her bottle of water, Huntsgirl whisked one of the drawers open, rummaging around for her clipboard so as to take necessary notes. Slapping it down in front of her, she leaned over the desk upon her elbows, heaving out a sigh as her head fell into her hands. She did not have the patience nor the desire to pursue the tests, let alone the energy to begin the day. The girl wished to collapse back into bed and to stay there until this nightmare faded away. It was horribly contradicting; she was intrigued and eager to learn about dragons in a new way that would help in eliminating them from Earth, yet she despised being forced into this project as the one who had to supervise him.

_I guess complaining won't change anything,_ Huntsgirl thought sourly.

Hands falling from her face, she rolled her shoulders to ease the tension before reaching for a pencil from her stash of writing utensils, slipping it beneath the metal clasp of the clipboard. She had everything she needed, now she was to wait for the dragon to regain movement so he could dutifully follow her like a filthy mongrel. Looking back over her shoulder, she found that he was flexing his arms and legs, his fingers and toes wiggling as he was already in the process of regaining control of his body. He still had yet to sit up. Stifling a yawn, Huntsgirl slung an arm over the back of the chair, watching the dragon with a bored expression. Seconds ticked by, and the silence only continued. It was so quiet. Her eyes began to droop.

_So...tired,_ her mind echoed groggily. _So, so..._

"Man!"

She jumped, eyes wide open as her heart skipped a beat. Her blurry gaze fell onto Jake.

"Was that even necessary?! Okay, I get it, you hate me and want me to suffer. You're treating me like a prisoner. Right, right. But still. Can't you trust that I won't try anything stupid?" His arms were shaky as he pushed himself up, and he swayed a bit, though managed to right himself. His glare landed on her. "Or could you _at least_ give me a warning next time?!"

Huntsgirl rolled her eyes. "Baby." she muttered.

"Baby?" Jake repeated incredulously. Oh, right. Super-enhanced hearing. "Are you serious? How would _you_ react if you were shocked like that? You act like it's no big deal but I bet you would totally be singing a different tune if somebody did that to you so unexpectedly."

She didn't have time for arguing! "Whatever. Let's get going."

Tucking her clipboard into her bag, Huntsgirl stood up and marched into the cage, grasping the leash in her hand. She gave a rough tug, displaying more than telling that she demanded he comply. Jake jerked forward but caught himself, snorting as he followed her out of the cell on all fours. It was awkward. People were staring at the odd scene of a girl hauling a magical creature along behind her as if he were the average family pet. And Jake wasn't exactly small or even middle-sized. He almost filled up the entire hallway, some having to squeeze up against the wall as he passed. Jake kept his gaze low and wings folded at his sides, absently watching his claws as he walked. His talons clicked along the concrete floors. _Dang, is everything in this place made of stone? How original..._

He yelped in surprise when he was suddenly yanked into a side room. He tripped and fell in, surprised when his scales brushed up against carpet. He looked up in time to see Huntsgirl sliding the door shut, applying a series of locks to insure their privacy and his containment before turning and crossing her arms.

Expecting a fight, Jake somersaulted and jumped to his feet, taking a karate stance.

"Uh..."

He blinked in confusion. This wasn't the scene of an army of Clan members that he was expecting to be confronted with. No, what he was looking at was an all-white room fitted with a white chair and futon perched within the middle of the boxed space. Seated on the chair was the Huntsman, his hands in his lap as he calmly observed the dragon. Dropping his stance, though not letting down an ounce of his guard, Jake warily glanced around. He watched as the Huntsgirl walked back around the futon and to the chair, where she stopped to stand right beside her Master. They stared at him as intensely as he did at them.

"What the heck is this supposed to be?" Jake asked suspiciously.

"Welcome to your first day of testing, dragon," the Huntsman announced. He motioned for the futon. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Jake's mouth was agape. "Is this a joke?"

He raised his arms, poised to strike. His claws balled up into fists as he planted his feet into the carpet to keep him firmly grounded. This had to be a trap. What other explanation could there be? Something wasn't right; nothing was right about this at all. A deep, low growl reverberated from his throat, sounding threatening and dangerous. His eyes switched from the hunters to hastily searching the room around him for any possible hidden tricks.

"Relax, fool," the Huntsman said. "We are alone. Very much so, in fact. These walls are insulated to keep noise in – and out. We hear nothing from beyond as those outside hear nothing from within here. Simple as that."

Was that supposed to make him feel better?

"Now, all I ask is that you sit down. Is that so difficult?"

Jake did not budge. He remained stiff as a board, gaze searching the enemy he knew that he couldn't trust. He had no reason to listen to the man who has tried time-and-time again to hand him death. He flinched as the Huntsman raised his hands.

"Look. I'm not armed. I've got nothing to hurt you with..."

"I do."

Huntsgirl was answered with an elbow to her abdomen, which was accompanied by a fierce warning glance. "Pay her no mind. She never was a great morning person. She is under my guidance, and thus has no authorization to do anything lest _I_ wish it." After one last pointed glare toward his apprentice, he looked back to Jake. "So, American Dragon, either you do as I say and we can slide through this session smoothly and quickly with minor to no problems or we will be standing here for a long while. Which would you prefer?"

Jake huffed, making no move to obey.

"If you are expecting the weapons, I can gladly bring them out for a bit of...persuasion." the Huntsman sneered. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he twined his fingers, chin resting over his hands. "This may sound odd to you, but I have no intention to harm you. At least, not today. This will be so much easier if you will just listen..."

Jake did not like this, not one bit. It was off. It was creepy. What did these people want from him? What exactly was their motive? He continued to linger, afraid of what might happen if he did go along with what they wanted. And yet, what would happen if he persisted in ignoring them? This seemed like a lose-lose situation, so with a heavy sigh of defeat and a slump of his shoulders, Jake finally complied, albeit hesitantly. Once seated, he didn't allow himself the luxury of making himself comfortable. Instead, he remained vigil and tense, shoulders squared as his talons scratched nervously over the cushion. He chewed on his bottom lip, cautiously watching the two hunters as they conversed through whispers. Despite his amazing depth in hearing, they spoke in too shrill of a tone for him to understand. They exchanged occasional glances with him before finally, the girl dug into her bag and relinquished the clipboard to her Master. She didn't seem too pleased. She let herself fall back against the chair, crossing her arms and turning her hardened eyes that screamed pure teenage reluctance onto him. It was a little unnerving yet incredibly tempting to taunt the girl, though Jake would not show any emotion toward her.

"Well..." the Huntsman cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders and popping his neck before crossing his right leg over the left, using it as a balance for the clipboard. He positioned the pencil directly above the board, the sharpened point of lead pressed readily to the paper. "Here we go, then. How are you feeling right now?"

..._What? _Jake stared, not even bothering to hide his baffled response. It was weird enough that there was claim of no intended harm, and now they were presenting casual questions? What did they expect him to answer to? Nothing about this seemed natural or made any kind of sense when it came to the typically aggressive nature of the Clan. Plain and simply, it was just strange_. _And because of that reason alone, Jake's nerves were set on high alert.

"Confused?" the Huntsman guessed off of Jake's prolonged silence. "I suppose that's to be expected. In fact, perhaps disorientation is a word best suited to describe your situation in its entirety? Certainly it's no easy task to be forced into adjusting to a caged life. You must feel displaced, maybe fearful, knowing that you'll never resume your daily life as it once were..."

Jake blinked, continuing to showcase his befuddlement. Why was the Huntsman addressing him in such a manner? It was truly bizarre. Even still, he could not find his voice to provide his own input. He was intrigued enough to drop his guard only slightly, his direct attention now focused on the bulking man, who he couldn't help but notice had completely changed in personality and posture. His usual rough and menacing demeanor was replaced with something calculating, almost professional.

"But beneath all those spiraling emotions, anger must be the most prominent?" the Huntsman pressed. "You are trapped. You are powerless and vulnerable in here, locked away from the world. That must be frustrating for you."

Jake snorted. "What makes you think that?" he sarcastically bit back. Was his foe trying to degrade him, make him feel useless? Perhaps this was a fool's game in attempting to assure him peace, only to attack when he least suspected it. And little did he know that he was playing along, right into the opponent's cheating hands.

Huntsgirl's muscles tightened, outraged by the dragon's disrespectful retort to her leader. Hands clenched into fists, she strongly had to resist the urge to pounce upon him. Of course, she was also frustrated with her Master. What was the point of all these ridiculous questions and surveys? And if he was guiding the so called 'test', then why did she need to be here? "This is a waste of time. What are you looking to accomplish by communicating with this sniveling brute?" she complained, displaying her obvious distaste toward Jake with a gaze of daggers before turning to the Huntsman with a pout akin to that of a bored teenager.

Annoyance crossed the Huntsman's features, apparently not too keen about the sudden interruption. Setting his jaw and drawing in a deep breath, he whipped around in his chair, grasping the Huntsgirl by her upper arm and yanking her down to his level. She swallowed hard, cerulean eyes wavering as she looked at him with cloaked fear. Though, she needn't hide that she was afraid; he knew that he scared her. He put everyone on edge. "It's like it is, _idiot girl,_ I'm demonstrating an example for you to follow and to do that, you need to quietly sit by and pay attention. Don't speak. Don't whine. I'll have absolutely none of it. Just watch and learn. Is that _understood?"_

"Yes, sir," she squeaked, irises dilated into mere small dots as she quickly pulled away once released from his iron grip. She rubbed where his hand had been clasped around her arm, looking increasingly uncomfortable yet still managing to appear angered at her Master despite the rather threatening moment between them. Jake frowned, somewhat bothered by the interaction. He didn't get it: why did the Huntsgirl remain so loyal to one that probably would not hesitate to hurt her if it ever came to such a drastic point? He had no doubt that it was impossible. He almost wanted to reach out to the girl, but what was he thinking? She was his enemy. He shouldn't care.

The Huntsman shifted, placing both feet on the ground and the clipboard in his lap.

"Quite truly, I find you fascinating," he neatly picked up where his previous prodding had abruptly left off. "Despite how you must assume what the Clan thinks of you, we know that you're smart. That is why we view your kind as dangerous; as a monstrous threat to humanity. You are not just a mindless beast, but rather a sentient being capable of human intelligence, which is why you are able in containing your emotions rather than acting upon mere animal instincts. But, how long does that last? What happens when you finally break? And when it does happen, how negative can the effects be?"

Jake narrowed his eyes. "What are you getting at?"

"Anger is a risk," said the Huntsman. "It is a weakness that devours us all – human and creature alike. When we act on this feeling, we abandon all logic and sense, thus leaving us open to potential harm. Now, think about this: seconds are ticking by, and as each new day will pass, you will continue to be surrounded by the same gray walls. When it becomes more clear that all hope is gone, you will gradually become insane. Your desperation to escape out of fear of dying alone will become your prime sense.

"Now, fear is an opposite to anger. You'll do anything to ensure your survival, pushing your limits and willing to take chances, all the while discovering strengths you never knew you had. With fear, one can do many things..."

The Huntsman paused, seemingly pondering. He slipped the pencil between his fingers, tapping it over the clipboard as he watched the dragon's fiery orbs carry a vacant expression.

"...Ah, but I don't think fear suits your situation, though of course, you have _very much_ to be afraid of. You are a dominant species, much more susceptible to being consumed by your anger. Already, it must be manifesting, as I'm sure it must be maddening to be robbed of your control. You no longer have command over your own free will, nor over those pathetic creatures that you so call 'protect'..."

Something within Jake pinged at those words. Was the Huntsman implying that his role as a protector was nothing but a lie and that he ruled over the magical realm, like a rogue king?

"W-what are you talking about?" Jake stuttered in offense. "I don't control anybody...!"

"Don't you?" the man countered harshly. "I see the way they follow you so blindly, always looking for your approval and all the while clouding their own judgments," he paused for a moment, and in the instant that Jake faltered to come up with a heated reply, he was cut off before he got the chance to defend himself. "Don't you ever consider the fact that they don't really see you as a leader? Perhaps they are afraid of you and the authority that you possess. They realize that if they do something that strays from your standards that they will be punished. They _fear _you. They do not respect you, it is only a cover of their real thoughts toward you!"

Jake's chest puffed as his rage swelled, his green spikes bristling as he jumped up from the futon. Huntsgirl took his sudden motion as a threat, straightening up her slouching posture and taking a fighting stance. Her blue eyes glinted with fierce hostility.

The Huntsman remained stationary, amused by how well the test was managing results and even more so by the fact that he was the only one that realized it.

"You couldn't be more wrong!" Jake roared. "How could you even suggest that? The magical creatures trust me and count on me to keep them safe when they otherwise can't protect themselves! I don't control them. They have the right to do what they wish with their own lives. Only if violence is an issue will I assert my power over them -"

"My, my," the Huntsman cut in nonchalantly. "I've stepped on a toe, have I? But I see we are finally getting somewhere. Now that we're a bit more lively, why don't you explain what it must feel like to have no option of return to your people? Does it make you sad? Or does your anger continue to grow, knowing that with you out of the picture, the magical creatures now have no protection? They do not have their leader to _trust_, to _count on_, and then how does that affect you? Do you still look like a hero to them? And without your little fan-base, then what more are you? What use would there be to utilize your power over those who no longer have a belief in you? Do you then turn to humans?"

These claims were outrageous. Jake could feel his blood boiling. All this talk of what might provoke his anger was making him furious. And maybe that's what the point of this fiasco was; to blow his top. Sucking in a deep breath, Jake closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down.

"It would be easy for you to attack humans, wouldn't it?" Huntsgirl sneered, still poised for battle. "The way you traipse about disguised like one of us..."

Jake found it difficult to hold his tongue. They were mocking him, trying to stir him around. He couldn't lose his control like they wanted him to, though why they wanted it to happen, he didn't know.

"Ah, yes, a clever ruse," the Huntsman said. "Though, it would be just disastrous if your little act was ever uncovered. Could you imagine? Humans would become wary of their own people, pronouncing false accusations on pure mortals and thus eventually bound to cause future chaos and violence upon one another. And to blame for all of it? You."

_Lies. All lies._ Jake convinced himself silently. _Don't listen to him..._

"And stemming from that, humans will seek the destruction of the magical world, as they _should._ They will begin to hunt down magical creatures, and who will be there to save them? Their glorious hero?" the Huntsman scoffed with a laugh. "That's the thing: these creatures won't know where you are, and for the most part, they won't care until they are in dire need of your assistance. When it comes down to life or death, they only will for you to save them. And if you are not there to do so, then they are not concerned of your well-being and your missing status but only betrayed that you would neglect them all. Those atrocious anomalies don't care for _you_ yourself – but of what it is you do for them, and that's it. Selfish critters, the whole lot of them."

_Deep breath..._

"They are not worth your efforts; they never were. And what a pity. You devote your cause to their lives, and yet they don't acknowledge nor appreciate your services at all."

_Ignore. Him._ Jake grounded his teeth, forcing his gaze to the ground to focus upon the blank white of the carpet. They could make up stories and theories about who he was or what he did all they wanted, but he had to tell himself that they weren't true. He couldn't succumb to their ways of tormenting his pride.

"It's so ironic. All the sweat and blood you've wasted to preserve the magical world, and in the end, it shall all burn nonetheless. The one who is sought to save it all – you – will let them all down, tarnishing a title you hold so dear..." Jake swallowed roughly, his frame slightly trembling as his rage was coaxed. "Even after all these tests, you will continue to live. I want to present you to the downfall of your society, and to witness as your greatest failure is destroyed, all the while you are helpless and denied to do a single thing..."

"That's enough!" Jake barked with a yell. He had finally snapped under all the gathering pressure, his amber irises aflame. His body language conveyed his boiling emotions, tail thrashing and muscles tightening and twitching. "I'm tired of hearing your pathetic lies!"

Upon an instinct to act among his anger and to alleviate it, he lunged. Before the Huntsman could even react, Huntsgirl was already wrestling the dragon back. His punches and maneuvers were swift and wild, and yet they were not coordinated. He only struck air in his blinded fury while she was able in landing her attacks. She had him up against the wall, knee jammed into his abdomen and arm to his throat, locking his head in place against the wall. Jake breathed in quick gasps as his eyes flashed, realizing with fear on how he had lost his self control only to find himself stuck in this dangerous position. He struggled to slip away from her death hold, his anger steadily seeping away and leaving him drained and desperate to fight her off of him.

"Huntsgirl!"

She suddenly felt a hand on her arm, tugging her away. The woman quickly flung Jake to the floor, throwing him down on his back. "Don't ever try something like that again," she growled warningly as she was pulled back by her Master. "No one even thinks about touching the -"

"Silence!" the Huntsman commanded with a boom. He firmly placed his apprentice behind him before whisking out a tranquilizer. With a pull of the trigger, a dart pricked Jake's arm, the needle sinking through his scales and into his veins. He had no time to defend himself or figure out what was going to happen due to the aftermath of the situation that left him in a partially disoriented daze, and by the time he was aware of the weapon, it was too late. The chemical was now spreading throughout his bloodstream at a quick pace, and already, he was feeling the effects from it. His eyes began to droop and his limbs began to feel heavy. He tried to move up off of the ground, though miserably failed, falling flat to his stomach.

The Huntsman reached for his belt, grabbing for the radio. Finger pressing over the button on the side of the device, he spoke clearly into the receiver. "Manfred."

A static buzzing sounded from the other end before a crisp voice cut in. _"Sir?"_

"I need you at the non-interactive testing room. I request that you take the dragon back to his quarters."

There was a long pause. _"What?"_ finally came the quizzical, incredulous reply. _"You can't be -"_

"He'll be in no condition to bother you," the Huntsman assured. "And I rather you do it sooner than later..."

"_...How do you expect me to transport it?!"_

"I don't care how you do it!" the man was becoming impatient. "Drag him, I don't care. He's too drugged-up to notice anything like that. I, on the other hand, have something else to attend with in the meantime."

He ended the call there, disconnecting the reception of the radio and attaching it back onto his belt. He turned to the Huntsgirl, who couldn't understand why he looked upset. "You; come with me."

She nodded without hesitation, though before following him out, she chanced one last look at the dragon. Still, he was conscious, though his mobility seemed entirely restricted. He only lay on the floor, breath shallow as he blankly stared forward. His golden orbs darted to her for a moment before his eyes slowly closed. It was almost a sorrowful sight. Shaking her head, Huntsgirl hurried after her Master, joining him down the hallways and into his private office. However, there was no polite gesture for her to take a seat, nor was he taking his own. Instead, he instantly turned on her, and she flinched back in surprise.

"What did I tell you?" he demanded once the door was closed. She swallowed back a lump; it didn't matter how many times she had gotten into trouble in the past – his fury would always remain to be frightening to her. "To not get involved, right? And what do you do? You act without my word..."

"He was going to attack you!" Huntsgirl shouted in her defense.

"And do you think he would have succeeded?" he scoffed. "I was prepared. I could have handled the situation. You were ordered not to do or say a single thing. You could have jeopardized the entire ordeal!"

She bit her tongue. She wanted to question just what was the objective of it, but she figured she was already knee deep in the water. She merely bowed her head, displaying her shame to him.

"However..." he drawled with a long sigh, which perked her attention back onto him. Her blue eyes followed the Huntsman as he began to pace the room, cape billowing behind him. "I suppose it was somewhat useful that things worked out the way they did," he turned to the huntress, crossing his arms as he leaned against his desk. "I was able to draw out the dragon's anger easily once I targeted his phenomenology, though the results turned out better than I could have hoped. You experienced his lousy accuracy. He was too absorbed in his outrage to focus on strategy. He became an easy target. You were all over him, and he couldn't even touch you."

So, _that _had been the objective; to bring out a physical reaction of his anger, which thus left him vulnerable in battle. Anger would affect anyone just the same. Anger was a weakness. Huntsgirl smiled, knowing that the first test had been a success. They had achieved at least somewhat of a result. They couldn't be disappointed with the morning's events.

"It's a work in progress," the Huntsman said. "We'll have to touch on this subject later. For now, we'll be heading in a different direction. Starting tomorrow, you will take the lead. You will begin the studies on him."

She didn't know if she should be nervous or excited. It was bittersweet, she guessed.

"Of course," her arms fell straight to her sides as she bowed. "Is there anything else you need me for today, Master?" she frowned, the action further indicated by the crease of her brow. "I don't have to babysit that brute today, do I?"

He allowed himself an amused chuckle as he rounded the desk, taking a seat in the black leather chair. "No, none of that," he was sure that she was grinning underneath the mask as the words left his mouth. "I only ask that you fetch him some food. Got to keep his strength up, after all."

Huntsgirl almost complained, though with the exception that she had the entire day to herself, she could let this small hindrance slide. "Yes, Master," she conceded as she reached for the knob, fingers curling around the hunk of metal. "I'll get right on that."

"Wonderful," he said. "You are dismissed."

* * *

_Ugh...What...?_

Now bobbing above the dark and murky sea of unconsciousness, Jake was now in the process of regathering his senses. Blinking away the blurry dots from his vision, he proceeded to yawn and stretch out his fatigued limbs, smiling slightly at the relaxing bliss that numbed his body. He lay there for a moment, not even aware of his surroundings as he floated amiss the soothing silence. And suddenly right then and there, memories began swimming into his brain, snapping him out of his stupor and causing panic to spark. The mysterious room, the meeting with the Huntsman, all the talk that escalated into a brawl with the Huntsgirl, and the dart that penetrated his scales and welcomed the relentless dark that plummeted him into an unwilling sleep...

Eyes widening, he sat up rigidly, not knowing just what he would be awakening to. Instead of the creepy white walls, he was met with the far more depressing stone interior of his cell. He was back within his cage. While strange that he puffed out a breath of relief, he was just glad to find that he was not in any immediate danger.

How strange it had been, though. All the personal questions and the accusatory remarks of himself and the magical creatures...

And for what?

To make him mad? That had obviously worked, and more toward their favor than his. He recalled what had been warned to him, that anger was a weakness. Some may have thought it to be a fuel – even he himself had not known what a consequence the emotion could deliver. When driven by anger, it could be assumed that you could tap into extra strength and perseverance, but how wrong that was. After experiencing such an informative mistake, Jake finally understood his grandfather's words from many years and missions ago: "a cool head, cools the body." he mouthed, looking down at his claws. The Huntsman apparently knew what he was doing. It had been his goal to bring out his anger. And Jake, who had played right into his awaiting hands, after telling himself he would have no part in their foolish game. What a turn-out, that he was the fool in the end. How moronic to underestimate the killer. It could not happen again. It may very well be the death of him before his captors themselves were even ready to land that final blow. And he couldn't perish. He had too much to live for to die so young, to die too soon.

_...Don't I?_

The minor relapse in thought was rare for someone so cocky, but Jake couldn't help that his pride was continuing to buzz around the Huntsman's harsh accusations that threatened to shatter it. Did the Clan really view him as a control freak over the magical community? More importantly, was that how it's citizens viewed him as well? He wanted to tell himself that, no, of course it wasn't true. But, who was he to choose his own answer? He had no real idea of what the magical creatures opinions of him were. Perhaps they really did find his presence to be a problem, feeling that their freedoms were repressed if it was a possibility that he were to intervene in their life choices. And what of their concerns about his person? Did they only see him as a tool, only appreciating that he made life easier for them by smashing out evil, and not really caring one way or another about their savior's being? By now, it had to be taken into notice that he was unusually absent from the skies. Were they accusing him of neglect, rather than actually wondering where he was and if he was okay? And if disaster did have it's way and he was not there to stop it, then surely their respect for him would grow into disdain – if there was even any respect at all.

None of this was true, and yet, none of this was a lie. The true nature of the magical creatures was unknown. And just these thoughts on possibility alone made Jake's stomach turn with a nagging sickness. Maybe the Clan was wrong, or maybe they were right.

Jake jumped violently as the door suddenly opened, looking up to see that it stood slightly ajar. Whispered curses could be heard from the hallway as the door was suddenly kicked farther in by a foot, followed by the sight of the displeased form of the Huntsgirl. Her arms were occupied with carefully balancing a large tray filled with foods. The dragon didn't realize how hungry he was until his stomach gave a joyous growl at the sight of the edibles. He smiled beside himself as Huntsgirl approached his cage, setting the dish down upon the transfer table and sliding it into the boxed prison. His disturbing thoughts were currently abandoned as he eagerly reached for his breakfast.

_Pig,_ she thought with a face of twisted disgust as he began to chow down in a starving manner. Shaking her head, she was already turning for the door. "Well, enjoy," she said with no trace of empathy. "I have the rest of the day off, and catering to _my needs_ is far more important than seeing to yours. So, if you'll excuse me..."

Jake quickly swallowed his mouthful. "What?" he asked. "You're leaving?"

"Like I just said?" Huntsgirl bit back with a roll of her eyes.

"Then..." Jake paused a moment to hungrily bite off another piece of the baker's bread, chewing loudly. "...Why all that getting up early stuff? What was the point? I could probably-" he broke off to swallow. "Still be asleep!"

It was hard to argue with that. She herself questioned the reason of rousing so early if there was instead the option of the remainder of the day to pursue the test, but she wasn't about to get caught in agreeing with her enemy. She looked back over her shoulder. "And miss out on stuffing your gut with food?" she teased, though there was nothing lighthearted about the notion.

Jake blinked and shrugged.

"Goodbye, idiot."

"Wait!" Jake called after her, and she stopped just before exiting, body tensing up with annoyance that spoke through her shoulders scrunching up to her cheeks and hands clenching into balled fists. "This food is a little stale...can I get a microwave refreshment?"

Huntsgirl retorted by slamming the door behind her.

Jake hummed with disappointment. "Guess I'll take that as a 'no'..."


	7. Turning the Wheel

_**-Turning the Wheel-**_

_Unknown Location,  
__New York City,  
__October 16th,  
__Thursday, 4:17 P.M._

_Pfffff..._

_Huuuuuu..._

Ragged pants and rasps sounded throughout the room, blending in with the tedious noise of squeaking metal. The scene was curious to anyone that happened to witness it: the American Dragon, running along a giant hamster wheel of sorts. He was forced to keep running along, as it was motor-controlled. Huntsgirl sat in a chair not far off, remote in hand as she watched him with an amused expression. He struggled with the task of refraining from stepping on his tail, all the while keeping it tucked beneath him securely so as to keep the long appendage from getting tangled in the wheel. It had already happened once, causing him to trip and stumble, which thus lead to him spinning around in dizzying circles. It had proven difficult to regain his unsteady and fatigued footing while the wheel continued to move on it's own accord, and as tired as he was, it was becoming an anticipating game as to when he would lose his balance again. Droplets of sweat beaded up among his scales, and his tongue hung out the side of his mouth, the sight akin to that of an over-exerted dog.

"Wha..." Jake gasped in several breaths, keeping his gaze forward so as not to break focus on his concentration. It was almost impossible to speak. He was absolutely exhausted, and it was hard enough to catch oxygen without the accompanying challenge of talking. He was sure that his heart would burst from the confines of his chest at any moment. "What is the point – of all this? Are...are you sure all these 'tests' aren't just an excuse for torture...?"

Huntsgirl smirked as she casually leaned back in her seat, placing the remote in the breast pocket of her lab coat before she stretched her arms high over her head. "Aw, but the torture makes this more enjoyable for me! How could I pass on such an opportunity?"

Off of Jake's serious and offended look, she rolled her eyes, dropping her arms to her lap.

"If you really _must_ know, this is a trial to test your stamina," Huntsgirl supplied him with an honest answer, giving an innocent shrug of her shoulders. "You know, to see how fast you can go, how long you can persist..." she paused, glancing upward to the ceiling as she waved her hand around while listing topics. "Uh...yeah, stuff like that, I guess."

Jake's brow shot up. "Say what?" he wheezed with a frown. "What...I mean, why? If you're just gonna...end up killing me off...then...what's with all this...testing my abilities?" he broke off, almost choking on his voice. His lungs were burning in protest, feeling as if they were going to collapse. His throat was dry and scratchy, craving for even the most sparse amount of liquid. And it's not that the wheel was spinning too fast. The speed was moderately slow, it's just that he had been going on for _so __long._ It had to be nearing half an hour, now... "I mean, it's...it's not like I'll be alive for you to...fight in the future...so, why study something that will only die? What would your...learning leave you with...?"

Huntsgirl watched him closely, her head tilting slightly as his words slowly sunk in for her to analyze and understand. Quite honestly, it was strange to hear her foe talk about himself in such a manner that he currently was. He was always the over-confident and arrogant opponent that tended to boast about being able in reaching the finish line, no matter what the race involved. He was always so sure about winning and his undoubtedly skillful talents. As annoying as it was to her, it was just one of his traits that she had become so familiar with. Now, to hear him admit to his knowing death that was soon approaching and _conceding_ it, it was just...abnormal. It threw her off a bit. It was almost too surreal to believe.

Catching herself, she shook her head. "Our reasons are for us to know and for you to butt-out." she stated simply.

Jake managed a smile despite his physical discomfort. "I think you mean, 'and for me to find out'. I...I betcha I can uncover your little secrets...!"

Huntsgirl smiled beside herself. Here he was, already sounding like his usual self. And why that amused her, she didn't know. "Funny. I'd like to see you try."

As silence festered between the two, Jake quickly returned to his panting, feeling that the output helped in regulating his breathing to the motion that he was becoming accustomed to. Oh, but how he wished that it would stop, if only for a few minutes. _And to think of all the times I've complained over the training exercises that Gramps puts me through...those are nothing compared to this! _He thought with mirth, taking care to create a mental note that if he did manage to escape and resume life, then he would never judge the training methods that he was pit through ever again.

"So," Jake started once again, taking a chance to let his eyes dart over to the girl for a split moment. "Since we're talking...how about you begin with an apology?"

"Excuse me?" Huntsgirl shot back, sounding more incredulous than she did quizzical. The huntress further reacted by pulling herself up to sit straight and tall, hands to her hips as her blue eyes observed him expectantly, waiting for him to explain.

"Oh...you know," Jake pressed on. "For yesterday."

Huntsgirl sat rigid and unmoving, blinking in befuddlement before she actually _laughed._ How else could she have acted to something so childish? "Like you didn't deserve it?" she retorted coldly. "You were planning on attacking my Master. I simply put you in your place."

"I'm still waiting..."

The young woman inhaled a deep, long breath, nostrils flaring as she proceeded to stare at the monstrosity with an unnerving calm that signaled the oncoming trouble. Of course, he didn't notice, but she was going to make him regret that he ever demanded such a silly thing from her that she didn't even owe to him. In one single and fluid movement, she was standing on her feet, tugging her coat firmly over her shoulders and readjusting the collar around her neck before reaching for the electronic device that basically controlled the very fate of the dragon. Without even a glance at the settings, her fingers grasped the red knob and cranked it all the way to the right, where the small black letters read 'high'. Almost immediately, the wheel began to pick up pace, the whirring noise almost akin to that of a personal fan. Jake yelped as the increase in speed forced his body to tumble forward, causing him to fall into an awkward angle. He fell flat on his chest, legs still in the air and face squished against the metal as he was once again at the mercy of the machine. Eventually, he was only a red blur, the momentum of the wheel keeping him plastered in place. Eyes watering and lips flapping back to reveal his set of razor sharp teeth, he managed to somersault completely forward and grasp the bars, bracing himself on his stomach as the nausea-inducing ride continued.

As a last act of evil, Huntsgirl suddenly flipped the switch in the opposite direction, a wicked gleam in her eyes as a sadistic grin bloomed across her hidden face. The wheel came to an abrupt halt, and as a result, Jake slammed into the side of the wheel, his head becoming jammed between two bars. He clenched his teeth, irises rolling around in their sockets as he had to quell the urge to vomit. The feeling subsided, however, and he was now surprised to find that he was stuck. He pulled, though only managed to stretch his neck. Snorting puffs of smoke, he grasped both sides of the wheel and tried to wrench himself free, though his attempts were futile. Becoming panicked, he began to flail, the action humorous and pathetic.

"A little help...?!"

Huntsgirl couldn't contain her laughter. She was in hysterics, eyes watering as her back hunched over, arms hugging her stomach. The exuberant sound bounced off of the walls, taunting the dragon from every angle and direction. His cheeks puffed with his anger, though the heated blush that crept over them was more due to the embarrassment of his situation. Luckily, his crimson scales were able to hide the change of color.

"Don't laugh!" Jake growled in humiliated exasperation. "It's not funny!"

Within a separate section of the room, encased by a large glass exterior that dulled the outer noises, the Huntsman watched the exchange. Relaxed in a black roller chair with arms crossed and expression unreadable, he glanced up at the woman standing beside him, who was all too easy to identify: she was not pleased. Fixing her glasses and clearing her throat, she shifted the clipboard in her arm as she went on to address the man.

"I'm sorry, do you find this enlightening?" she inquired sternly, tone crisp and serious.

"Oh, it's nothing, Margaret," the Huntsman assured. "It's just a bit of cutting slack. If it makes the child more at ease with her assignments, then by all means, let her tease the overgrown lizard."

The councilwoman gaped at her superior, her face slowly growing into a scowl. Her lips twisted into a disdainful knot as she leaned all of her body weight to the left, proceeding to place a hand on her hip to further enact the demanding pose. "Is that what you are going to call this? A mere tease?" she scoffed, hastily brushing a loose lock of her brunette hair behind her ear as she went about to further voice her frustration. "Sir, why don't you just open your eyes? _This,"_ she stopped to emphasize, using a gesture of her hand toward the two outside of their private shell, "- is what I refer to when I say that your plan is dangerous to involve the Huntsgirl, using her in the way that you are. Eventually, their little 'squabbles' are going to transform into something a little more than that, and then what happens when the girl finds out that she is your little pawn in your plan? How is she going to react to that?"

The Huntsman rolled around in his seat to face the woman, his hardened gaze picking her apart. Though, she was hardly phased nor intimidated. She stood her ground, standing tall as she returned his frightening glare. "What are you implying?" he asked. "I'll have to ask you to lay your conspiracy theories to rest, Greta. It's all just harmless mingle, nothing more, and certainly nothing nefarious."

He had managed to scathe her enough into silence, in both denying her claims and using that inferior nickname that he especially knew she despised. With an indignant huff, she turned on her heels and exited the room, an air of swirling arrogance enveloping her. The Huntsman snorted, rolling back around to continue supervising his apprentice and their captive.

"Yo..!" Jake screeched, still helpless in his efforts to free himself. "How is it that your head can fit through something yet not get out? It makes no sense!"

His complaint seemed to fall on either deaf or ignorant ears, and so he placed his attention back onto his struggles. He sucked in his cheeks, thinking maybe that it would be enough for him to slip through, if only barely. Extending his neck and setting his shoulders back, he held his breath and yanked his body back in such a force that when his head was finally released from the vice grip, he fell off of the wheel with a surprised cry. Back connecting with the steel flooring, he groaned, taking a moment to rub at the sore spots where his flesh had been rubbed up against the metal bars. Finally, he pushed himself up to stand, holding his hand as he twirled around in a dizzy fit. Huntsgirl was at his side in an instant, grabbing his arm and leading him to the back wall, where she placed him against it and bounded his limbs. Once the restraints clicked into place, she hurriedly rushed behind a machine.

"W – what is this?" Jake croaked, once again becoming aware of his surroundings.

A blinding light suddenly flashed, causing spots to dance in his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut, as his claws were currently restricted from rubbing at them to relieve the burning sensation. Huntsgirl hummed with satisfaction as a laminated sheet of paper slipped out of a printer, which displayed an image of the dragon's skeletal feature. An x-ray. This was perfect. She now had a more in-depth source of study for his anatomy, and best yet, he had no idea about it. And as far as she was concerned, it needed to stay that way.

"Hey!" Jake suddenly called out to her, eyes barely cracked open. He tried to pull away from the wall but found that he was trapped. "What are you doing now?"

"Oh, nothing," she replied. She strode over to him, unlocking the bindings and quickly stepping away as he fell forward, managing to throw his arms out and catch himself on his claws and knees. He pushed himself up to stand once more, his dizziness having disappeared, though his eyes were still twitching irritably. He rubbed at them to regain his average sight, blinking away the remaining bits of blurriness before he glanced over at the Huntsgirl. He happened to notice the paper that she was holding.

"What, a photo-op?" he guessed. "Geez. You only had to say so. I would have even posed for you."

"Charming," Huntsgirl murmured, rolling her eyes.

He cracked a slight smile, talons wiggling as he reached for the paper. "Ooh, so can I see it?"

Huntsgirl's eyes visibly widened. "What? No!" she shrieked, the sound positively girly for someone not incredibly so as she batted his claw away and lifted the paper up above her head, away from his prying grasp. Jake withdrew of his own accord, leaning back defensively as he pressed his inflicted claw to his chest, blinking in awe and surprise – awe due to her somewhat cute and laughable reaction and surprise toward the reaction itself, which could be considered irregular for someone of her characteristic. The irregularity was referenced to her lack in retaliating in a much more brutish fashion, such as inflicting physical harm or something far worse. In fact, she seemed to be in a fairly _good_ mood today. Content, in her standards at least.

He lifted his claws up in a surrendering gesture. "Whoa, okay, I'm sorr-"

Huntsgirl didn't wait to hear out his apology, kicking her leg out and landing her boot right into the center of his stomach, the sole sinking far into the soft layer of his scales and throwing him back to the cold hard ground. He instantly recoiled, scooting back as he regarded her in hysterics. "Hey! I was saying that I was sorry!" he remained down on the concrete floor, slightly propped up on his elbows as he glared at her. Well, so much for her better attitude. "What the heck was that for?!"

"Don't snoop around in my business." was all she had to say, plain and simply.

"Alright, I get it!" Jake conceded hastily. "I won't look. Nope, not looking!"

Huntsgirl loomed over him, staring him down before crossing her arms and giving a stern _humph_ before she turned on her heel and made her way back over to the wheel. Connected to it was a small computer, which recorded information from the machine during its use. Tapping into the database, the young woman carefully scrolled through the results while reaching for her clipboard at the table beside her and scrawling down the numbers. As Jake busied himself with getting up off the ground and brushing himself off, he was approached by the Huntsman, who held a staff to his head. Jake backed off, observing the weapon apprehensively.

"Can't have you trying anything stupid while you're free to scuttle about." he said.

Jake snorted. "You're stupid to think I would try anything stupid." he fired back, keeping his wary distance away from the man.

The Huntsman frowned. "You'd do well to mind that tongue of yours..." _And think of better comebacks,_ he thought wryly. _Such a child..._

"Hmm..." Huntsgirl hummed as her fingers raced along the keyboard, nodding absently to herself as she continued to switch between looking to the screen and back down at her paper. Finally, she looked over at her mentor. "I've got all we need. The stats are looking pretty decent."

"Excellent," the Huntsman said, pulling his staff away from Jake and conforming it to nothing but the size of a hand-held box with the press of a button, snapping it onto his utility belt. "We'll now have to put those numbers to the test..." he turned sharply, cape swishing as he made for the exit. He stopped just before the door, placing his hands behind his back as he glanced over his shoulder. "Get back with me in the morning, and we'll begin."

Huntsgirl extended her arm, holding out the clipboard. "What about the results?" she asked.

"Hold onto them."

"And him...?"

Jake perked, knowing that it was he that she was speaking for.

"We're done here. Take him back. He'll be needing all the rest he can get to prepare him for the coming day's events..."

Jake cringed inwardly. He didn't like the sound of the implied trouble that he would most likely be confronting. After watching the Huntsman depart, he turned to look at Huntsgirl, who was tucking the clipboard into her bag, along with the image of his x-ray that she had printed off. Grabbing it from off the chair and slinging it over her shoulder, she then turned to face him. Her index finger tapped the strap of the bag, her brow raising. "So, are we gonna do this the easy way or the hard way?"

Jake shrugged innocently. "Are we talking easy as in letting me walk back of my own free will, or the hard way as in you're gonna force me back into that harness?"

She crossed her arms, appearing none the more amused. "I mean easy as in you comply or hard as in I paralyze and drag you along the halls again."

Jake pouted, disgruntled gaze falling to the chains on the ground. Made up of pure unicorn horn, they were absolutely unbreakable when it came to his strength. He further emphasized his brooding discontent by puffing out his bottom lip, crossing his arms tightly against his chest as he squinted stubbornly at Huntsgirl. "Why do you have to come on so hardcore?" he complained.

She reached into her bag, withdrawing a dart gun. "Do it now."

"Whoa, alright!" Jake surrendered immediately, plopping down on the ground and grabbing the harness. He began slipping it over his arms and across his torso, stretching it over his back and struggling with trying to clasp the lock securely into place. All the while, Huntsgirl only watched him with a dull expression, gun still aimed at his person for precaution.

"Don't forget the muzzle." she stated simply, looking over her unarmed hand with mild interest before she rubbed her gloved knuckles over her uniform.

"Oh, no," Jake rebutted. "I am _not_ putting that thing on!"

Huntsgirl blinked at him before cocking the weapon. He flinched at the noise, actually tensing up and bracing for a hit. However, nothing came. "What was that, Dragon Boy?"

"Come on!" he resorted to drastic pleading, releasing his hold on the harness and letting the chains droop along his sides as he held his claws up. "I'm putting on my own restraints! Can't you just trust that I won't do anything?" he asked. "I mean...have you ever considered that I might be willing to be more cooperative toward you if you try treating me better?"

Huntsgirl scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Whatever," she pursed her lips as she then proceeded to sigh. "Fine. Don't put on the muzzle. Just see what happens if I notice one little puff of smoke..."

Jake's lips split into a grin as he went back to the challenge of strapping his harness. With a resounding click, he clapped his claws together in triumph before jumping up to his feet. He offered her his arm, brows twitching upward. "Shall we?" he joked, offering her a toothy smirk as he gestured for the door.

….

"You're real dumb, you know that?"

Jake grumbled incoherently, swearing beneath his breath as he trudged alongside Huntsgirl like a beaten animal. His eyes crossed as he looked upward, very aware of the big bump that was currently stinging and throbbing atop his head, adding to the horrible migraine that had come along with it.

"I'm thinking about feeding you to the kraken..."

"What?" Jake growled. "You mean, you have one around?"

"Sure," she shrugged as she gripped the leash. "I mean, we have to punish some undesirables _somehow."_

Jake clearly displayed his disgust at the image of that idea with a scowl. "I don't get it. You people despise magical creatures yet you keep one around like the family pet?"

Huntsgirl made no further comment as they finally reached the cell. Upon entering, she urged Jake into his cage with several taps of her boot to his rear, closing the barred door behind him and securing the locks before she pocketed the key and walked over to her desk. After falling into her seat, she dragged her hands along down her face, letting her head fall back as she closed her eyes. Meanwhile, Jake was seated on the ground, pulling the harness from off his body in reserved silence before he knelt up and passed it through the transfer bin, the chains falling uselessly to the concrete along with the still attached leash. He rubbed his bruised head with a pained grimace as he assigned himself to his little bed. He shot a disapproving glare at the girl, who was paying no mind to him at all. "You are evil."

"Wow," Huntsgirl mumbled hoarsely, not even lifting her head to look at him. "I'm deeply offended."

Jake tucked his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. "You probably feel all smug, like an adult who grounds a kid..."

Huntsgirl sat up straight. _Grounds? _She tilted her head in puzzlement. "What does that mean?"

Jake stared at her for a long second before cracking a slight laugh. "You're kidding, right?"

Off of her prolonged silence, Jake blinked and realized that she really didn't know what he meant. He was slightly taken aback before he mimicked a crude noise: "Oh, right, I forget that your Clan doesn't live normally."

Huntsgirl reacted by his implied words. "And what makes you so 'normal'?" she demanded.

"Plenty of things," Jake countered, sensing the challenge in her voice. "I mean, I have to go to school to score an education, I have household chores, I have a little annoying sister to contend with, and friends to..." he trailed off after realizing just what he was listing off to her, and with wide eyes, he knew that he was now treading dangerous waters. How moronic could he be? One minor little slip about detailing his human life and he could be revealing his true identity. He shut his mouth, turning his back on her. "You know what, never mind all that. I think I'm just gonna go to bed early tonight..."

Intending to ignore any further remarks, he settled down on the cushion and closed his eyes. However, Huntsgirl didn't have anything to say. She was too shocked to find any suitable words, so instead, she returned to her desk in a light daze, thoughts whirring around her captive and the new details about him that had just bubbled to the surface.

_**`~*~'**_

"_H-hello?" My voice wavers, betraying my uncertainty that I wasn't too keen on revealing. "Who are you...?"_

_There's a dark figure clad in a stark black cloak standing just ahead on the street at the corner of the block, still as the night and silent as the breeze. The head of this stranger is angled down whereas the hood is casting an eery shadow, making this unknown appear faceless. I falter, inching backward; I'm not fond of unknowns._

_My heart leaps into my throat as the figure echoes my movement, stepping forward as I backpedal. I never turn my back to this chilling entity. I'm not even sure if it's human. My eyes dart around, looking for any other signs of life. It's so weird; this is New York, the City That Never Sleeps. And yet, the streets are vacant, devoid of traffic and pedestrians. Where is everyone? Am I alone, left helpless to fend for myself?_

_The situation is scarier than I could comprehend. My powers are disabled, I find once I try – and fail – to revert to my more stronger and reliable half. I'm stuck as a mere mortal, made up only of skin and bones, and I couldn't be more terrified by that aspect, watching with despair as my escape from this mysterious follower seems inevitable._

"_Jake..." a hissing voice whispers, sad and hollow. I'm almost sure that my skin is crawling as I hear my name, blood running ice cold within my veins. It echoes, as if being called from above, but I see nothing as I hastily look about. The rooftops are barren, and the sky is desolate, cooking up massive storm clouds. I return my petrified gaze to the figure, the only accountable source._

_I shiver. Even worse is that the voice sounds familiar._

"_How could you, Jake?"_

_What did it mean? What had I done?_

"_I was willing to trust you. I saved you. I _loved_ you..."_

_I desperately wanted to speak out, to retrieve answers and explain that I was clueless, but I only managed to choke and sputter on my restricted vocals. I don't know what I did. I don't know whom I was implied to have betrayed. I'm a hero; I never need saving. But...this being...had loved me? Who _was_ this? Perhaps I didn't even know, but this person obviously had an idea about who I am. Maybe even _what _I am. That thought does nothing to calm me down, as I don't believe that this is a friend._

"_We could have been so much together..."_

_I feel my heart throbbing and pulsing heavily within the confines of my chest as I back into a corner. My hands go to either sides of the brick walls surrounding me, pure and utter panic gripping me whole as I realized that I was in an alley. I was trapped. No way up, no way down. No way in...no way out. I'm left to face my fate, which blocks my only route of escape – the way I had foolishly come in the first place. No doubt that the unusual fear I'm exerting is easy to identify, the danger eating it up and growing in resolve as it approaches me ever so closely, its intention perfectly clear: murder. I'm going to die here, any hope of making it out alive denied. I swallow hard, trying to back further into the crevice of the conjoining walls, my shoes kicking up the gravel beneath my feet as they slide over the ground in my useless attempt to scoot away. The figure stops just inches away from me, and as I peer beneath the hood, I expect to find a pair of crazed red eyes, malicious and fierce staring right back at me. But, to my surprise, I only see blue. Majestic and deep, they are a blue that I have found myself lost in so many times before..._

_No...it can't be..._

"_American Dragon..."_

_The voice is no longer empty and void of life, but now feminine and one I know all too well. The figure raises an arm, sleeve falling back to reveal a pale hand that reaches up to grasp the edge of the hood. Fingers curling around the fabric, I find that I'm holding my breath as the cloth is pulled back, revealing luscious long locks of golden hair and a face that makes me want to fall down to my knees._

"_...Rose?"_

_My sweet, long lost Rose...It's truly her that stands before me. However, she is not the same as I remember. She is cold, she lacks an inviting personality – she is just _nothing. _I don't even feel happy to see her, despite the girl being the one I've desired for so long now since her disappearance._

"_Why did you run, Jake?"_

_I frowned at her question. I'm not the one who ran out on everything we had – she was the one who left me! Ran away, never to be seen or heard from again!_

"_This has to end now..."_

_She spoke before I could, and her words puzzled me, leaving me silent. From within her cloak, she withdrew an item. A knife, I realized with a gasp. My frightened expression was mirrored in the blade, clean of the blood that had yet to stain the surface._

"_No, Rose – wait!" I plead, waving my hands out in front of me to stop her. "Why are you doing this? Please, don't!"_

_She takes a step forward, arm raised and dagger poised to strike._

"_Rose-!"_

"_Goodbye, Jake."_

"_No, no, Rose, no-!"_

_**`~*~'**_

"No!"

Jake shot up as the scream left his lips, arms automatically raising up to shield himself as he expected that final blow. His terrified cry echoed and vanished, and as the seconds ticked by without incident, Jake cautiously peeked his eyes open and lowered his defense. He found himself within his cage, no imminent danger to greet him and no hostile girlfriend to take his life. He released a shaking, relieved breath. _It was just a dream..._ He began to shiver as his body broke out into a cold sweat, using the back of his claw to wipe away the damp moisture that was accumulating upon his forehead. He pushed back his matted mane of hair, sucking in breathless pants as he tried to ground himself back onto Earth after that horrible ordeal that his brain had conjured.

That was no dream. It was a _nightmare._

In the process of which he was slowly gaining back his senses and awareness, it was then that he realized that he wasn't alone. Feeling the presence of another in the room, he swiftly spun around on the cushion, seeing Huntsgirl seated at her desk. She was gaping at him, book going slack in her hand. While his first response would have been to feel humiliated and embarrassed that she had been around to witness his public display, he couldn't help but to feel entranced by her eyes. Those two, rather familiar blue eyes...his stomach gave a painful turn as he was reminded of the nightmare. Wanting nothing more than to return back to his own little personal bubble, Jake murmured a quick, "It was nothing, it was nothing..." before he turned his back on her and laid back down upon his side, staring blankly at the wall as chills continued to wrack his frame. He wished only to fall back into the throes of sleep, but like hell that would happen after what played out in his mind.

Why?

What was the reason for him to imagine his former girlfriend in such a disturbing nature? It was truly odd and peculiar. Of course, back when Rose was still with him, he always had the hidden fear of her finding out what he really was. He assumed her reaction would be awful, because honestly, what human could take well to finding out that one they thought was a human like them was, in actuality, a mythical beast that shouldn't even exist? Well, shouldn't exist in _their_ minds. Magic has always been around, for magic was as old as time itself. However, as adventurous and extreme Rose could be, she was also just a simple girl. Magic would have been way beyond her head. He dully wondered if his dream had been a manifestation from his fear of if she had ever managed to discover his little secret, though why she would go as far as to stalk and kill him, that was the weird part. Thankfully, it was just a dream, so he needn't look so much into it. It was all over now...

Huntsgirl remained in her partially shocked state, having been taken aback by the dragon's sudden action. Quite obviously, he had been startled out of the depths of a nightmare. She might have found it humorous to throw taunts at him, but seeing as how it was affecting his behavior, she didn't really find it so funny. In fact, she felt _bad_ for him. Watching as he shivered – either from the cold or the aftermath of his hallucination – she tugged at the blanket around herself. It could be a combination of both, for all she knew. With the walls only being made up of concrete, and due to the lack of windows to allow the warmth of sunlight into the room, there was always the presence of a noticeable chill.

She hesitated for a moment, switching glances between him and her blanket, and then the digital clock which she just had installed in the room that day for reference of time. _7:08. _She might as well call it a night. Making up her mind, Huntsgirl finally set the book down on the desk and stood up, removing the blanket from around her body and walking over to the cage. She exchanged the bundled wad of fleece through the transfer bin of the bars, and easily, she was able to throw it at the curled up dragon. He flinched at the instant it made contact with his body, sitting upright to observe the item. He gripped the blanket in his claws, blinking in confusion as to its sudden appearance. He looked back, catching his enemy just in time to watch her exit the room, flicking the light out on her way and leaving him to darkness.

For a moment, Jake remained stationary, dumbfounded by what had just transpired. Slowly, he settled down onto his back, eyes drooping as he snuggled into the warm blanket and eventually, he drifted back into the welcoming clutches of sleep, seeing no more of haunting blue eyes for the remainder of the night.

* * *

_**I swear, chapters feel so much longer when you're writing them, then when you upload them the writing gets all compressed and the chapter ends up looking so much shorter than what you were intending. And then you're just like** __I can't -_**  
**

_**Ooh, but hey, the trailer for Book 2 of Korra is coming this Friday at Comic Con! As well as the full first episode! I'm really looking forward to that panel a lot!**_

_**And sorry if things seem to end a bit abruptly. That can be to blame for this being written in sections...the first half, then the ending, then the middle...this chapter gave me all kinds of grief. It should have been posted a while ago. Sorry about that! But, I promise that things get further touched upon in the next chapter, as well as a visit to Jake's family and how they are faring. Hope to see you all soon! Just also let me take a moment to thank EVERYONE who read and review! You are all the inspiration that keeps me going and I really appreciate all the support! I promise, this story has so much in store. It's just gonna take some time before we get there!**_


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